Between the Lines
by finallyxfound
Summary: She was fed up and looking for a way out He was just wanting a drink after a horrible day at work. Could you really turn a one night stand into something more? TroyGabby, RyanKelsi, ChadTaylor.
1. Mystery

_WT:_ Between the Lines  
_Genre:_ General, AU, Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama  
_Main Characters: _All  
_Pairings: _Troy/Gabriella, Chad/Taylor (light), Ryan/Kelsi  
_Listen to:_ I Don't Need a Man by The Pussycat Dolls  
_Dedicated to:_ no one, but just a shout out to Sarah  
_Summary:_ She was fed up and looking for a way out; He was just wanting a drink after a horrible day at work. Could you really turn a one night stand into something more?.

&&&

**Between the Lines**  
Mystery

&&&

_Whack!_ The paper was slammed onto his desk and if anyone didn't know already, he was in trouble – big trouble. Not even attempting to turn around to see Taylor McKessie's face glaring at him, Troy Bolton sat up straight and let the argument come.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Her voice was not the quietest and even with his office door closed and blinds shut, he knew that the rest of the newsroom could hear her yell at him. "WELL!" Her arms flew out from beside her body. "Tell me Bolton – what the HELL were you thinking? He's a U.S. Senator for crying out loud!"

"I know that!" Troy spat back, not intending his voice to raise a few notches. Her glare and body language said it all. Taylor McKessie, Editor in Chief of the Albuquerque Times was not in the least bit pleased and yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was all because star reporter Troy Bolton brought the Senator's scandal into broad daylight. "Look, I don't know okay, but the people need to know about it," he told her and she wasn't convinced. Her arms crossed on her waist and she taped her foot, and Troy knew she still wasn't satisfied. With the news – yes, but not with how he did it. How did he do it? Easy - with a front page article and this had the newsstands in downtown Albuquerque void of any Times paper and abundant with their competitors. "What do you want me to do about it Taylor?" Troy neither yelled nor demanded, but just asked.

"You really want me to answer that truthfully?" Her eyes narrowed as she neared his desk, slightly pacing from side to side. "What I would like to do is pretend that that article never happened. That you never were tempted to print it. That I never assigned you to that job…God, Troy…do you know what you did?"

"My job, I did my job," he said, still sitting in his chair calmly.

"Bullshit, Troy. What you did was not your job. You manipulated that guy to tell you this information and it goes against all of yours, mine and this papers journalistic ethic! Do not tempt me about firing you."

"You wouldn't fire me," Troy tested the waters, seeing how far he could push her.

"Watch me. One more step Bolton and your job will be Chad's," Taylor threatened, her finger jabbing at the paper she whacked on his desk moments before. Backing away, she let out a heated breath and started towards the door. "Take the rest of the day off. Without pay. I have to go save your ass and cover mine."

Troy got up from his desk chair and followed after her, getting his secretary, Martha's, attention as he passed her by and stopped in the middle of the open area. "What? What am I supposed to do all day?" he shouted.

"I honestly, Troy, don't care. I just don't want you here," Taylor was adamant in her decision, walking back and facing him head on.

Troy argued back with her as Martha watched on. Her interest was now peeked. She knew Tory could be a hot head at times, but never like this. Fighting the urge to go pop some popcorn for the show, she felt a nudge on her arm. Looking up, she offered a small smile to Chad Danforth, the Times' sports writer and a close friend of hers and Troy's. "What's going on?"

"I'm guessing his article. She's mad."

"I like her mad. It's hot," he honestly admitted.

"Bolton, do not argue anymore with me. Give me one more reason to put Danforth in your office, do it," Taylor badgered her top reporter to push him further and caught Chad's eye out of the corner of hers. Chad, being Chad and seeing how feisty she actually was, went for the wink. "Danforth, don't start with me. You'll be in the same position as Bolton," she threatened him.

Taylor did not know Chad all that well, being a transfer from California, but what she did know about him were two things. One, he got everything he ever wanted, girls included and two, he was cocky. Those two things rolled into one were what made Taylor roll her eyes every time he smirked at her.

"I'd like to be in Troy's position actually…"

"Button it Danforth. Now." Her words were short and to the point as she turned back to Troy for a moment before continuing back to her office, Chad watching her all the way down the hallway before the door slammed and his view of her side to side hip movement was ruined.

He turned back only to find that Troy wasn't any better in enlightening the two watching like they were in the middle of an action flick that just got good. He spun on his heel and retreated to his office for about two seconds, coming out a moment later with his car keys in his hands.

"Troy?" Chad called his name before he left for any type of story on what just happened.

"Martha," Troy spun around while still walked backwards towards the exit, "hold my calls. Unless it's my mom, I'm not here."

"Of course, sir," Martha answered as the door pushed open and now the whole newsroom was buzzing with whispers and gossip. "Do you even wanna guess what's going to happen next?" she asked Chad as he shook his head and went back over to his desk on the other side of the room.

&&&

She tried to keep her voice from trembling over the phone, but wasn't succeeding. Tears were going to fall and she didn't feel like she had the strength in her to hold them in any longer, "I understand. Thank you," Gabriella Montez hung up the phone in her uncle's office and slammed it back on the cradle. She was mad, no, maybe more than mad. Livid. Yes - that would be the word to describe her current state of mind. Letting her body slump in the massive desk chair that her uncle never used, the tears came and this was the only time she wished her mom was still around so she could slump into her arms and let it all out. She never let it all out when it was with Aunt Rosa.

For three years, she had been trying to get a recording contract and with every company, every song and every audition, the same line came: _We'll let you know_ and then came the _We're sorry_ line. And what made it worse was that she knew the reason why too: the 14-year old _Hannah Montana_-look a likes who would "sell more albums". Flinging herself forward, Gabriella let her head slip down on the barren desk and sulked. This was not her day….or her week for that matter.

It happened everytime too. Zeke or Kelsi or even Ryan would get her hopes up and she would go in there with more confidence than she started with….and in the end, be let down everytime. It wasn't fair. She had experience and a voice, the wannabe _Hannah Montana_'s just had the sex appeal and apparently that's what the record companies wanted. Resisting the urge to throw something against the wall, she groaned and looked up at the closed door, not seeing the point of going out and performing now. After all, she was just a lounge singer…from now until forever more. But just when she had her mind made up on not going on stage and sulking in the vicinity of her uncle's office which just happened to have its own mini bar in the corner, someone knocked and she groaned, knowing exactly who it was: a person she didn't want to see because he would talk her into going on stage and she didn't want to go on stage. Not now, not tonight. As she peeked through her dark locks and saw the blond hair creep into the room through the open crevice, Gabriella could feel him stare at her. "Not in the mood. Go away."

"I can't," his voice stood strong but sympathetic at the same time. "You know I can't."

"I know and that may be what I hate about you right now," she groaned and stood up from the chair. "Gimme ten okay, Ryan?" Gabriella told her uncle's protégé and circled the dark cherry desk; not wanting to hear his lecture about how many people paid a chunk of change to come and drove so many miles to be here all to see her perform like she did every night.

"Another call?" He raised his eyebrows and wondered about his close friend.

"Yeah," she muttered and went to pass by him, "no lecture today?" she added, smirking and walking past him. She was startled when he caught her arm and pulled her back next to him again. Looking back at his blue eyes, she rolled them ever so slightly and made him let go. "Just later okay? I just want this night to end."

"Okay, but I'm holding you to it," he warned, opening the door for both of them to exit. At least the night was half over already. "And Gab," he called her back but she didn't turn around from her destination outside the door and down the hallway, "no lectures tonight. I promised Kelsi."

Smiling slightly, Gabriella silently thanked her childhood friend who had remained closer to her through all of these years. Kelsi was a piano player who turned into one of the best elementary school music teachers ever. Gabriella was a genius turned singer. They were good for each other that was all that mattered. Meeting Kelsi in middle school had been the best thing that happened in her life, so far. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the doorknob and made her way out to the hallway. Walking down the corridor relatively quickly, Gabriella straightened out her choice outfit for the night – a simple combo of a black top and pencil skirt paired with a belt that would come off just as easy as it was put on. Her lengthy curls flowed down her back and she grabbed the microphone sitting on top of the amp by the stage. Only three more hours until she could drown in Zeke's special shots, just for her.

&&&

It was red. Gabriella shifted a smile as her fingers found the short, thin glass in her hands and she finally looked up at the friendly bartender who was leaning towards her and just staring, probably wondering why she's this quiet and not talking his ear off like she normally is. On regular nights, she was laughing and joking with him on how horrible she did on stage and he always corrected her on saying she was wonderful – how she lit up the stage like no other guest performer has done. On regular nights, she would talk with Sharpay Reynolds, Ryan's twin sister and recent widow, on the people who walked through the bar and people watch with her. Sharpay was a quiet one now since her husband had passed and Gabriella would spend most nights helping her get past the sorrow that still filled her. On regular nights, she wasn't in the slump she was in now. Tonight, she was all about the drinks and letting herself drown in them.

"Okay, enough with this," Zeke said, but Gabriella didn't look up from the glass she was still drinking on, "what's wrong with you?"

"Huh?" she muttered, her head still down.

"What's up with you? Anything happen that caused you to be, oh, I don't know….not Gabriella?" he asked as she looked up at him with a scrunched up nose until she caught on to what he was saying.

Letting her head back down and her fingers still tracing the outline of the glass, Gabriella sighed and finally let someone in. Knowing he was the only bartender in town that could actually keep a secret, Gabriella was more than willing to bear it all to him. "I'm just not having a good night, Zeke."

"How come? Looked like you had a good time out there," he pointed back out to the stage where the band was cleaning up a bit and customers still sat, listening to Kelsi play as she flirted with her fiancé sitting beside her.

"I got another call," was all she had to say before he stood straight up and grabbed the drink from her hand. "Hey, I was drinking that."

"I know, but it's not what you're wanting," Zeke quickly grabbed two shot glasses and the bottle behind him. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? We could've been drunk by now."

"Because you're not supposed to drink on the job, for one," Gabriella reminded him, laughing as he filled the glasses to the top. "What are we drinking to?"

"How about…to you?"

"To me?"

"To you," Zeke raised his glass as Sharpay slid into the seat beside her. "To Gabriella Montez, the best damn singer in the world even if the world doesn't know it yet." Zeke put the glass to his own lips and let the liquid slide down his throat in one flick. Grabbing another shot glass, he poured one for Sharpay as well.

"How about to just the best bartender?" Gabriella offered, raising her glass a little towards Zeke. At his pearly white smile, she let the liquid slither down her own, teasing and stinging all at the same time. God, she needed that. Maybe a few more shots and she would be good. Or, even better, after she told Ryan the full story and a few more shots after that. Hell, Ryan could wait. "Any more in that magic bottle of yours?"

&&&

They were really nauseating. Really, really nauseating. Especially when they were trying to cheer her up. Talking about their upcoming wedding and how Aunt Rosa would be making three cakes for the reception was almost converting her back to her happy self, but she still couldn't get the words out of her mind. They were too distracting and ironically, Gabriella couldn't get enough of her friends and their love for each other. Watching silently as Ryan danced Kelsi out of the room, heading back to their apartment across town, she shifted back in her chair and watched the people interact, not really paying attention to the bartender who was staring her down again.

He had been off all night tending to the luxurious resorts' guests and more to Sharpay. He knew she wanted to drown out her emotions in a few more drinks than normal and he left her to it, telling his colleague Jamie, to her anything she wanted. Of course it did help that she was blood related to the owners of the establishment, so she usually got what she wanted anyhow. What she knew however was that Zeke still fancied Sharpay but he knew she was still grieving. Her husband, had passed away suddenly, following an outburst of the disease called cystic fibrosis. Unlike any cancers, where you well aware of your demise, 's had come very suddenly and within the blink of an eye, he was gone.

"You have an admirer," Zeke got her attention and slid the drink in front of the singer and she cocked her eyebrow in a bit of confusion.

"I didn't order this Zeke," she said, looking at the colored red glass in front of her.

"Like I said, you have an admirer," Zeke set a fresh basket of pretzels by her and nodded the mystery admirers' way. "He's been watching you for a while."

"What?" Gabriella twirled her head around and glanced at the mystery man for a moment, turning back just a s quickly when he winked at her. With shaggy brown hair and an infectious smirk, she immediately thought he was cute, but she still didn't know who he was. "Who is he?"

"You can ask him yourself," the barkeep told her, disappearing from his place across from her.

Gabriella twirled back around only to see the man was gone from where he was at. She frowned and turned back again only to fling her hand to her heart in surprise. "Sheesh, don't do that." It was him by her side.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he chuckled and smiled at her. "May I?" he gestured towards the chair next to her.

"Sure, go ahead. Um, not to be rude, but who are you and why did you buy me the drink?" she asked, interested in his answer and truly intrigued.

"I'm Troy and you looked like you needed one. Bad day?"

"I don't really indulge strangers with my personal life but since you seem to know what type of drink I like, I'll tell you. Yea, it was a pretty crappy day."

"I'm right there with you. Today just wasn't a good day for either of us," Troy tossed the Sam Adams Dark bottle between his hands and watched her fingers trickles over the circular container. "I didn't catch your name."

"Ella," she said. It wasn't a complete lie, many people did call her that. But just because she indulged him about her day, didn't mean she was giving him her whole name. After all, she still didn't know anything about him other than his first name and that he drank Sam Adams like it was water.

"Ella," her name rolled off his tongue and he stared at the brunette beside him with interest. She intrigued him. From the moment he walked in, she was the first thing he noticed apart from her friends who were making fools of themselves trying to make her smile. And when she finally did, he was mesmerized. It certainly let him get his mind off of Taylor and the Times. He'd been enamored by her and she unconsciously hooked him in, and he was blinded at how she could make everything in the resort look even more beautiful than it already was.

"How did you know what my favorite drink was?" she asked, snapping him back from leaning in too close enough to take in her blissful scent.

"Oh, your blonde friend is very helpful," Troy motioned to Sharpay at the opposite end of the bar, people watching like she always did with Zeke by her side.

"Ah, yes, Sharpay can be very helpful when needed," Gabriella giggled and locked gazes with his blue eyes. It'd been a long time since any guy looked at her in the way he was doing right now. And after a night like this, she needed it…and wanted it too.

&&&

Two hours passed by and although they didn't know anymore about each other besides their names and crappy days. But somehow, Gabriella was now leading Troy into the secret rooms of the resort. Not just anyone got to see these certain rooms. They were meant for the elite, upscale and expensive visitors of the resort. Her uncle Alberto had them designed especially to cater towards them….but hardly anyone elite or expensive came to this resort, even if it was ranked the third best in the nation. They were still joking and teasing one another when Gabriella found their way into a giant suite that had just been completed and captured her heart with the reveal a few days ago. It was elegant and sophisticated. It was the room that once she saw the plans from her uncle, begged and pleaded him to name it after her late mother because she was just as elegant when she was still around. With soft, but bold colors, smooth lines and eclectic furniture pieces, it was her second favorite place in the resort.

"Ella, where are we?" Troy laughed as she dragged him inside the suite. "Wow," he stopped short and gazed around the room, amazed at the size and sight of everything in front of him.

"This is my favorite room in the whole resort," she stated proudly, her arms flying wide as she strode next to him. "It's the perfect room, so perfect. This," she pointed into the air to emphasize her point, "this is the room to make love in," Gabriella confessed, not paying attention that he was paying attention to her and not the room anymore.

Troy didn't give her much time to run or fight before he slid her in his arms and descended his lips on hers. And Gabriella didn't fight it. Melting into his arms, she kissed back and fought with him for control. Her arms blindly found the curve of his own, fingers feathered up his covered muscles and sat there as his lips made her feel wanted and sexy and like there was no one else in the world right now except for them.

Gabriella wasn't sure what to do next. She was certainly tipsy but not drunk enough for this – whatever it was. Her hands found the collar of his jacket and toyed with the flaps. Pulling one closer to her, she felt Troy's kiss grow wild, the need to touch her uncontrollably insane. His hands roamed up her clothed body and over her neck with one still gripping her waist. Letting her lips go for a needed breath, he didn't waste any time before connecting with her skin again. Her whole face was reigned on with soft, pleasurable kisses and although Gabriella knew this was so wrong, she didn't want him to stop. She wasn't this type of girl, but she needed it just as much as he did.

The words kept playing over in her mind again – she wasn't this type of girl, she wasn't. She was the girl that wanted the dates and the walks to the door and the soft kisses and the she was most definitely the kind of girl you brought home to meet mom, she wasn't the meet-in-a-bar, have-a-fling-with type of girl. But that didn't matter now as she pulled the collar in her hands backward, forcing Troy to loosen his grip and shed his jacket to drop on the floor with a soft thud. Gabriella kicked off her heels and felt the clip in her hair come loose, letting her long locks cascade down her back.

His hands were still discovering her – navigating their way across her back and underneath her shirt and they absolutely loved the place where they were sitting at now – her hips. Troy took another needed breath and watched her own hands feather down to his own shirt, lopping the buttons through the holes and back on his tailored shirt. She laughed as she did it, and he wasn't sure if it was a sign of her drunken state or the fact that she was teasing him and wanted to know how long she could do that before he helped her himself. Her laugh was infectious and he liked it, and instantly became his most favorite thing about her other than she was breathtakingly gorgeous.

"You're loving that aren't you?" he playfully went along with her game.

Gabriella looked up into his sapphire-like eyes that lit into hers in the dark of the suite. "Mmmm hmmm," she nodded and her fingers slowly took each one out of their holes and they gazed at each other. Troy trapped her swollen lips again with his and a new passion ignited in the both of them. He felt her hands pull his shirt open at last and he was almost too eager to have it off, tossing it aside as he walked her back to the edge of the bed and blindly unbuttoned her own and did the same, tossing it to join his. Scooping her up in his arms, he laid her down on the oversized bed and gave her a once over. Who knew he could get this lucky all by writing a not-so-reader-friendly article?

The bedding was cool on her back, but that didn't matter as long as Troy covered her body with his. Their mouths collided again and the heat rose. She didn't know how fast it took the both of them to get her skirt had slithered down her lower half or how long her lacy panties were thrown across the room, but it wasn't long before they were both gasping and panting for breath, lost in each other and craving more. Her nails dug into his back as she pulled him deeper into her, not wanting to stop.

&&&

Legs tangled within each other, weaved with sheets and a pillow which somehow found its way from behind her head to the end of the mattress. The sun shined through the blind and Gabriella wanted to just pull the covers over her head and block it out – until she felt only one thin sheet covering the both of them. Squinting her eyes, she looked around her surroundings, recalling the activities endured and enjoyed up until a few hours ago. Brushing the straying hair in her face away, she turned and faced the man who had her enveloped in his arms beside her. He was still asleep and for that she was grateful as she wiggled her way out of his strong arms. Instantly finding her own discarded clothing amongst his, her lacy panties were the first things to be put back on her body as she stumbled over the suite to gather the rest and walked into the queen-sized bathroom. Looking at herself in the mirror and she let her hands run over her face and through her hair, letting all of yesterday sink in; got turned down from record company number six, performed and sang for over two hundred people, drank too many shots, slept with a new McSteamy that could definitely rival Eric Dane in every department…three times. Yeah, she had quite a day.

Dressing quickly, Gabriella came out of the bathroom and looked over at Troy, still sleeping, who had just a part of the sheet across his private areas and she smirked. He was kind of cute when he was sleeping. Scribbling a quick note on the resorts' stationary to take the back way out, she placed it on the night stand and turned to make her exit. Letting the door close tight behind her, she let out a sigh and closed her eyes. As amazing as it was, this wouldn't happen again. It wasn't her…but it was.

"Gabriella," her uncle's voice broke into her thoughts and she opened her eyes to see him walking towards her. "What were you doing in there?"

"Morning Uncle Alberto. Um, I just wanted to see if anything had changed. It's so beautiful in there," she made up something really fast and smirked knowing in truth there were multiple things in there that were beautiful at the moment.

"I know, sweetheart. Just as beautiful as you," Alberto winked at her and she rolled her eyes and his poor attempt to complement her appearance at this time in the morning. "I heard your performance was one of the best last night."

"You heard so, huh?"

"Yep. Ryan is looking for you," he informed her.

"Oh, thanks," she said, short and simple as she pushed herself off of the door and started to walk opposite of where her uncle was headed. She couldn't wait to see Ryan's face when he realizes she's in the same clothes as yesterday. Zeke's either.

* * *

a/n: so, is this a yay or nay? 


	2. Just a Note

_WT:_ Between the Lines  
_Genre:_ General, AU, Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama  
_Main Characters: _All  
_Pairings: _Troy/Gabriella, Chad/Taylor (light), Ryan/Kelsi  
_Listen to:_ Bubbly by Colbie Cailat  
_Dedicated to:_ no one, but just a shout out to Sarah  
_Summary:_ She was fed up and looking for a way out; He was just wanting a drink after a horrible day at work. Could you really turn a one night stand into something more?.

&&&

**Between the Lines**  
Just a Note

&&&

_Wow…take the back way out. Turn left. Wow….Ella._

Troy's eyes gazed at the note still in his hands as he sat in his car in the Times' parking lot, debating on going in yet or not. Her handwriting was soft and it was the first thing he smiled at today, the second being the memory of her skin next to his and the way she arched her back as he found a sensitive spot on her shoulder. She had the world's most sexiest shoulders…he was brought out of his flashbacks of last night when his BlackBerry started to beep at him. Glancing at it only once, he let out a heavy sigh to see Martha's name flash on the screen. Reluctantly pressing the send button, he answered it knowing if he didn't, she would drag him up to his office herself. She did it once and he would never again underestimate Martha Cox.

"You know that I can see you right? I mean, your office windows are right over the parking lot."

At her words, Troy looked out his windshield and up the 56-story building to see Martha standing on the 18th, waving to him from the corner office he called his own. "Uh, morning Martha."

"If you don't get up here soon, Taylor will kill Chad and I'm not joking. I can hear them from the 20th floor, where he's currently chasing her at," she reasoned as he laughed at the visual she had just set in his mind. That was Chad alright, always after Taylor. He was determined to get a date with the editor. "I'm not joking. I can not save him all by myself here. I'm strong, but not that strong."

"I'm on my way Martha. Can you hold on for ten more minutes? I'm pretty sure Chad will fight us when we drag him away from Taylor anyhow."

"Make it five and I'll even get your coffee," Martha disconnected the call before he could respond to her.

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he glanced once more at the note in his hands before sliding that in his jacket pocket as well. Getting out of his car, the Albuquerque sun was hot and something that wasn't uncommon, but Troy took more notice of it as he entered the corporate media building, flashing his press badge to get inside to the separate set of elevators he had access to.

The 56-story building was the hub of almost all media in the city, housing three magazines, two radio stations, three television stations and the Times' headquarters. With his office on the 18th floor, it didn't take him as long as it normally did when he showed up at the crack of dawn. It was almost 11 a.m. and no later than he sat down in his chair, Chad & Martha would most likely mention lunch. But, Troy thought as he pressed the number 18 on the elevator panel, figured it wouldn't be happening today. And no matter how hot, steamy and explicitly blissful last night's activities were, they couldn't take away what was going to happen today. His fingers toyed with the edges of the note in his pocket and he leaned back on the back wall, flashing into any heated moment he could remember to put off thinking about how Taylor was going to deal with his "punishment", because he knew there was. If his "punishment" had anything involving Ella though, he'd gladly take it.

As soon as the elevator doors swooshed open, he was greeted with a giant cup of coffee and Martha standing there with papers, messages an at least three pens in her curly hair waiting for him.

"I see I made the five minute deadline," he mentioned, taking the cup from her hand and walking side by side with her back to his office.

"Just barely, but I probably would've given the coffee to you anyway. What do you want first?"

"What, no 'how was your day without pay off?'" Troy smirked, slipping into the three-walled room as she shut the door behind them and laid her papers down on the table in front of the sofa and stared back at him for a second. "Ok, ok," he set his mug down on the coaster she had trained him to use since she was hired as his secretary some years ago. Tossing his jacket over the chair, with the note still inside, Troy started to go through the messages in a separate pile when he noticed her still staring at him. "What?"

"You're wearing the same clothes. Why are you wearing the same clothes?"

He heard her words but chose to ignore them and dive right into what he truly wanted to avoid. "You really can head them from the 20th can't you?" he mentioned, trying to distract her curious nature. Martha had always been like that – curious and quiet. She often gave him the right angles he needed for his stories and he questioned her everytime on why she wasn't doing this for a living like he was. She was inquisitive and always investigating stuff and Troy predicted that by the end of the day today she would have figured out why he still had the same clothes on as the day before.

"Yea, and once they get down here, Taylor wants to see you," Martha noted, smacking the red post it on the desk, "why are you wearing the same clothes? I know you have enough suits in your closet at home."

Glancing at the bold color of the post it and the dark written words of TAYLOR ASAP, he shook his head at the capitalized letters. Placing the post it back on his desk, he looked up at Martha who was still studying him like he was a mystery. "I guess I should go see Taylor…"

"And save Chad and tell me why you're in the same clothes," she finished for him, watching him get right back up out of his chair and head out of the office.

"Nice try, Martha."

"Come on, you can't keep this from me."

&&&

His chocolate eyes stared her down, still not believing the sight across the way into the arena at the resort. She was known for being not only the resort's voice but also the resident fashionista, sporting all the latest trends or the season – or at least trying to. She was not the one to wear the same clothes two days in a row and especially not a performance outfit. He leaned back against the bar, making most of his bar staff clean and stock for this afternoon's crowd and watched her sit by the piano and listening to Ryan ramble about something hopefully related to her shows.

Seeing Gabriella pull back her hair into a loose ponytail, Zeke also noticed something else that she probably wasn't even aware of. Smirking to himself, he chuckled knowing her day yesterday went from the worst to probably the absolute best in thirty minutes, at most. Smiling back as she caught his gaze, he walked over to the arena and pulled out a seat at one of the spare tables, waiting on her to join him as Ryan finished his lecture and the band started to throw some chords together. There was definitely something different about her from last night – it was almost like she was back to being _Gabriella_. The girl last night wasn't the Gabriella most of the staff knew and loved. That one was sad and angry. He hadn't seen her that sad since her mother passed some years ago and Zeke desperately wanted to thank that 'admirer' for bringing back the old Gabriella, whoever he really was.

"Hi Zeke," her pleasant voice broke his gaze on her as she sat down next to him and poured herself a glass of water that had been sitting on the table.

"Morning," he paused, folding his hands together and letting them sit on the table. "So, how was he?"

Gabriella coughed on the water that was in the middle of sliding down her throat and sat straight up to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"How good was he?"

"I," she gulped, "have no clue what you're talking about."

"Sure you do."

"No, I don't."

"Then explain to me, you know, honest bartender Zeke here who knew you and Kelsi before Ryan came into the picture, why you have a love bite on your neck," he leaned forward and watched her hand automatically go to her neck and her cheeks flush and turn a shade of candy-apple red. "And if that blush on your face didn't just prove that I'm right…"

Gabriella smacked his shoulder, but stayed silent, wishing that Zeke would magically turn into Kelsi or Sharpay. She loved Zeke, don't get her wrong, but when she imagined telling someone about her adventure last night, it wasn't Zeke who she was telling. It was Kelsi….and Sharpay. Zeke was her sounding board, not her gossip buddy. "Nothing happened," she shyly said and turned away back to the stage to listen to the chords the band was playing with.

"Sure it didn't. And I'm not black," Zeke rolled his eyes as Ryan walked over to join them. "I'd take the ponytail down if you don't want people to know," he whispered, advising her and her hands immediately went to the back of her head, pulling out the elastic band and her hair came tumbling down around her shoulders.

"Gabriella, I need you to be here early tomorrow," Ryan announced to the two as Zeke was still sitting with her and just watching how she reacted to certain things.

"Um, why? The first show doesn't start until seven."

"The Albuquerque Times is doing an article on the resort and Alberto wants you highlighted in it," Ryan explained, marking off a few items on his notepad in his hands.

"What?"

"That's what he told me this morning, I'm just the messenger. Like always," Ryan held his arms up and sunk down into the chair next to Zeke.

"That's why he was like that this morning," she muttered to herself, not expecting Zeke to pick up on it. But then again, this was Zeke.

"So, something did happen," he wiggled his eyebrows and she smacked him again. She wasn't going to admit anything to the bartender before her best friend.

Looking back at Ryan, she could tell he was wondering what Zeke's comment was about. Gabriella had pegged him as the first to notice that she was wearing the same clothes, but he didn't even mention it…once. Which was odd, but she didn't dwell on it. His mind was probably on the wedding anyhow. "What time do I need to be here?"

"They said the reporter would be here around two. Can you handle that?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Does Kelsi get off early today?"

"Since when has she ever gotten off early?" Ryan asked her back and laughed, getting up from his seat and heading towards the check-in desks at the front entrance of the resort. That was his usual schedule –bar, arena, front, rooms and then his office until performance time.

"What time is it now Zeke?"

"About two," he glanced at his watch.

"Thanks," she brushed her hair back from her forehead and left the table without another word. She had so much to do before busting Kelsi out of work. And showering was most definitely at the top of the list.

&&&

"I don't have a choice in this? I've always had a choice," his voice now overpowered her nails tip-tapping against the computer keyboard as she transcribed a follow up email to another colleague. His voice definitely overpowered Chad's, which up until a twenty minutes ago was teasing and provoking Taylor to no end.

"You lost that choice of choosing and picking your stories when you published that scandal without my knowledge, Troy," Taylor still hadn't looked up from her computer since she finally got Chad out of her office in exchange for Troy. At least he didn't get under her skin like the sports writer did. He was more under her skin than she felt comfortable with.

"But I'm Troy Bolton!" he exclaimed.

"And I'm Taylor McKessie," she smiled, almost laughing at how he was trying to get out of his new assignment even before he found out what it was. The executives and herself had hashed this out all day yesterday and there was no way in escaping it. Until they cleaned up and controlled the damage for him, he'd have to go back to do what they wanted. And they wanted this story.

"But it's an interest piece. I haven't written an interest piece since college," Troy said, his breath blowing out of his mouth as she slipped down into one of the chairs in front of her desk defeated.

"So, think like you're in college and it's an assignment the teacher, being me, needs by Monday, or you're going to fail the class," Taylor pressed the send button on the email she had just typed up and turned to face him fully. "No pressure," smirking as she watched Troy for a moment shaking his head from side to side, still not believing that he wasn't going to be writing investigative reports or front page headliners for a while. "I know you don't like it, Troy, but you're writing it."

"Why can't Amanda do it? She's an interest writer."

"That would probably be because she's on maternity leave. You do remember that baby shower last month that we threw for her right?" she rhetorically asked and grabbed the blue file behind her desk and quickly looked through it. Sliding the folder towards her top reporter, Taylor smiled softly as he leaned forward and took it from her hands. "Look at it this way, Troy," she paused, "you still have a job," she pointed out the obvious and he rolled his eyes as he opened the folder to see her interest _assignment_.

He wasn't overjoyed about getting the assignment in the least, but Taylor did have a point. He still had his job and that was more than most people with the way the economy was right now. Sitting up straight after he read the first line, his eyes locked with hers for a moment and wandered back down at the packet, reading on, "Sterling Rose's Resort?" his brow creased as he studied the typed up assignment.

"Yea. It's a great resort actually. You should go there sometime after your assignment, you'd like it," she mentioned. If she only knew how true her words rang. That was the same resort he was at last night…the same resort where he met Ella. "Be there at two. You're meeting Ryan Evans and Alberto Ramirez."

"But, Taylor, wait…" Troy cut himself off, not wanting to share that information with his feisty boss. If he wasn't sharing it with Martha, he sure as hell wasn't sharing it with Taylor. Plus, she could hold her own against Chad and her energy was better wasted on Chad then him.

"Don't argue with me, just do it, okay? I already saved your ass once, it's your turn to save mine," she turned in her chair once again to face him, "now go, I have to write three press releases and proof the copy for tomorrow's run, not to mention a lunch date with Mr. Hiylar," she waved her hand and he didn't have to or want to argue with her anymore.

Stepping out of her office, he looked down at the folder in his hands once again as his two friends surrounded him, wanting to know if he was fired or promoted. He didn't do interest pieces, they just weren't him. They didn't scream Troy Bolton…not like the front page headliners – the editorial and investigative reports did. But he couldn't help but be drawn to this one and it was all because of a note. The inkling of a chance that he might be graced by her presence again was something he was looking forward to. He would risk writing an interest piece, all because of a note.

Patting the back of Chad's back, Troy smiled as he mentioned something about lunch and all Martha could do was stare at him like he had been abducted and changed him into an alien. "I feel like Mexican."

"Dude, why are you wearing the same clothes."

_Wow…._

&&&

* * *

Okay, so after this chapter, I'm not going to post any more of my HSM Fanfiction here - see my profile for the link 


	3. By a Different Name

**Chapter Three: By a Different Name**

She cradled the phone in the crook of her neck, pacing around the house still trying to find her boots that were around the place somewhere. The last time she had worn them had been three days ago, when she was feeling really, really good and ready to get a phone call from a recording label that actually said yes. And that had been the end of those boots. But she needed those boots now. They were the only shoes she owned that actually went with what she was wearing, although Kelsi would disagree with her on that. Gabriella wasn't going to tell her that, even if she was on the other line and not when she was begging for details about two nights ago. "Details Kels? Is Ryan holding out on you again?"

"No!" Kelsi scoffed, but wasn't giving up just yet just because her best friend brought up the sex strike of Ryan Evans once again. "I just need details. Is the point of having a best friend to talk and gossip about this stuff? I need them girl."

"Okay, no the point of a best friend is not that and why do you need them? When's the last time you had sex?" Gabriella queried, pulling on her knee high boots that she loved oh so well and leaned back on the sofa.

"So not the subject here!"

"It is too. If I'm telling you details about the sex I had, you have to spill too. Fair is fair," Gabriella laughed into the receiver as she could just see Kelsi pouting in her classroom at the elementary school because she knew she was right.

"If I say okay, does that mean details?"

"Yep."

"Okay, fine, but only later tonight. I do have children here you know. Impressionable children," Kelsi emphasized to her. "So, really now, I want to know _everything_."

Gabriella brought her legs up on the couch, getting as comfy as she was going to get and closed her eyes; the night flashing back to her. As she relived the night, she let Kelsi in on everything he did, wanted to do and didn't do. He was gentle, she remembered, but wanting. Kisses were heated and passionate, not short and chaste. It was like he wanted something to make him feel better and in return was making her feel better as well. His hands roamed her skin with desire and she couldn't get that out of her mind. It made her wonder if his lovemaking was always like that and make her think that if wanting more was wrong. She remembered the way his hands felt discovering her body; how his lips felt against her skin everywhere and how he flinched suddenly whenever her own hands started roaming on their own. With his sticky skin, she remembered tasting the salty of his sweat and still remembered his fingertips weaving through her hair.

"My God, Gabriella…"

"He was so amazing Kelsi, so amazing."

"Could you by chance tell this whole thing to Ryan again so I can be pleasured like that?"

"Oh my God, no! He didn't even notice that I had the same clothes on."

"Yes, he did."

"No…"

"Yes, he did. How do you think I found out about it?"

"I figured Zeke…"

"You and me both know that although Zeke loves the gossip, he doesn't repeat it. Ryan noticed and girl, you are telling him I want all of that."

"You, my love, shall get that on your wedding night."

"That's too long!" Kelsi exaggerated causing both girls to laugh a bit. "Think you'll ever see him again?"

Gabriella leaned up from the couch, her legs rolling down the side. She hadn't even thought about that. Albuquerque was a bit city and the odds of her seeing him again were slim to none since she didn't even know if he lived here or was just passing through. "Probably not. It was just a one night stand. I'll probably never see him again," she shrugged her shoulders and heard the sound of children in the background, coming to hear Kelsi teach them the universal language called music.

"You never know Gabby."

"I guess not…" she trailed off right as she spotted the end of her pointy heeled boot.

"Okay, kids are here. I want to hear those details again tonight. Bye." Kelsi hung up her cell as son as she said the word and Gabriella laughed. She was never the one to get into a lengthy conversation unless it was face to face or with her mother who lived in New York.

Placing her phone back on the cradle that sat on the coffee table, she brushed her hand through and over her long locks, trying to get them out of her face. It was one o'clock and that gave her plenty of time to pick up some new reading material – meaning the latest issue of Allure – and still be at the Resort in time for this so called interview. She still had no idea why her uncle wanted her there. He was always a little on the wacky side anyhow; he did hire Ryan.

&&&

"And this is the conservatory," the junior concierge pushed open the only open door to show Troy the extensive and beautiful floor plan of Sterling Rose's Resort on the south side of Albuquerque. Troy Bolton, reporter for the Albuquerque Times looked around the sheer construction sheets trying to imagine it being something inspired from the South of Mexico but he couldn't tell for two very valid reasons. One, he had never been to the South of Mexico and two, his eyes kept drifting from the construction to the hallway and around the resort, looking for a certain brunette bombshell that hadn't really left his world yet. He was looking for her, hoping she would turn up somewhere her but that was just a wish and one that wouldn't come true. All he knew about Ella - was her name and how erotic she made his name sound when she cried it out two nights ago.

His eyes wandered towards the long hallway that led to the suites she had dragged him down and then back to the junior concierge. "Um, so, when will this be completed?"

"Late winter, Mr. Bolton," he kindly replied, shutting the doors once again.

"Why so late?"

"Oh, Mr. Ramirez is making it special for an upcoming wedding. His second in command is marrying an elementary school teacher come April."

"How nice of him," he commented, truly impressed. Not every businessman, no matter how close or friendly he was with his staff would do that.

"It is. He tries to name all the suites as well after someone dear to him," he paused as Troy wrote the note down in his writing page for future use in the article. The young man lead him back into the reception area for a minute as he took a second to help a business woman with her bags. Troy glanced around the grand entrance again and would not admit it to anyone but himself, but the place was rather amazing.

It was light, sunshine beaming in from the arched windows and doors and the etchings on the walls reminded you of a place, somewhere that came from France, Italy and Argentina. A Mexican melody played over the guests as they strolled in and he smiled, maybe Taylor was right. Maybe he would really enjoy it. The junior concierge came back within a few more minutes and quickly apologized. "Don't worry, John," Troy said, remembering his name, "customers and guests first. Always a plus."

"Thank you Mr. Bolton. Now, let me escort you to Angelica's. This is where Mr. Ramirez requested to meet you."

It wasn't a long walk at all, in fact it was a short one into the place that was almost bare and had a bright blue sign with the name _Angelica's_ on it…this is what he knew as just the bar. It was different during the day compared to the night. The bar staff was skeleton, trailing in and stocking up; preparing for the night crowd that usually brought in the cash the staff was after. Right now there were only a few people scattered around and finishing up business, sipping on lemonades and relaxing. Setting the booklets and his writing pad down on a bigger table than the rest, he observed the relaxation of the room. Peaking out to his left, his eyes widened at the Broadway-esque stage with the dinner theatre feel.

"That's out stage. Rosa has named it _El Cora_. Miss Montez performs here every evening at five, seven and eleven. You're welcome to stay and watch."

"Thanks John. Is she any good?" Troy asked, discarding his suit jacket on the back of his chosen chair.

"Good? No. She's phenomenal," John admitted, not hesitating on his answer. "You would not be disappointed if you did decide to stay. Definitely worth the twelve dollars. Mr. Ramirez and Evans will be here in a few moments. Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you John," Troy shook his hand and turned back to the stage room that was attached. It was massive – like the stages he head visited while going to school in New York and had seen with his Broadway loving grandmother. _Whoever performed on that stage sure had to be someone_, he thought to himself as he saw two men out of the corner of his eye. Assuming them to be the two of question that he was supposed to meet, he left the table to greet them. He would never know that right at that tie Gabriella had been walking on stage to grab tonight's music.

"Ah, Mr. Bolton," Alberto reached out his hand to clutch the reporters, "I'm Alberto Ramirez and this is my right hand man, Ryan Evans," the elder man introduced the both of them.

"Troy Bolton, it's a pleasure to meet you both," he cleared his throat and plastered a small smile on his face. He might've not wanted to do this article, but yet he couldn't really hide the fact that he was kind of enjoying it so far. It was set back and relaxed while he knew his other colleagues, Jared, in particular, was getting smashed by the competition.

"Well, welcome to my resort. I hope John gave you a tour."

"Yes, sir, he did. I must compliment you that it is very eloquent."

"I'll take that as a sign you'd like to stay here one day," Alberto chuckled, glancing out the doorway for his tardy niece.

"Maybe one day in the future," Troy smiled again, pulling out his tape recorder as well as the writing pad once again for the actual interview. "Shall we get started?"

"If we can hold for a moment, Alberto wants you to meet his niece and have her sit in. If you don't mind," Ryan finally chimed in as the owner kept leaning back in his chair, almost tipping it over. "She's um…not always on time," he put it lightly.

"Not always? The girl is always late. Definitely knows how to make an entrance."

And right as he uttered those words, she came in the back way to the bar, behind Troy so he couldn't see the niece that Alberto obviously had a soft spot for. "I love you too Uncle Alberto."

Alberto smiled towards the girl with a soft voice that was behind Troy. It was a smile kind of like Troy's father held for his sister; a big one that was from ear to ear and spoke more than words could possibly convey. "What took you so long?"

"Long? It's 2:02 and I was getting the music for tonight's show." Troy watched as a wave of raven hair swept beside him and the girl leaned in to greet her uncle with a cheek kiss.

"Like I said, she knows how to make an entrance," Alberto chuckled as his niece stood back up and she waited patiently as he introduced her to their guest. But Troy had just seen her face and it was safe to say that introductions would not be needed. Staring endlessly since the moment he caught sight of her shimmering smile, it was really her; standing next to him in the flesh; in less than 48 hours after their one night together. And better yet, she was the owner's niece. Troy laughed to himself. If Taylor ever found out about this she would fire him on the spot and there would be a sure fire hell to pay. "Gabriella Montez, meet Troy Bolton, the reported from the Times."

She turned around to him, in what sort of seemed like a dream sequence out of a movie; the ones where the guy is meeting the girl of his dreams and everything about her is magnetizing. Her cocoa eyes met his again and while she gasped, he slowly stood up from his chair, still staring at her right there in front of him. They were both stunned silent and beyond shocked; never expecting to see each other again even though Troy had been praying that he would. Their gazes still locked and there was no turning back now. Although his feet were stuck to the ground, he couldn't help but fantasize about pulling her into his arms and kissing her like he wanted to and she wouldn't have any where to run. They were brought back together again, thanks to her uncle.

Frozen there, their feet still nailed to the floor of Angelica's, they had barely noticed or even heard Ryan and Alberto talking about their state of being at the moment. Troy barely heard the comment about two weddings in April instead of just the one. A million thoughts were running through his head and the first one being that he was screwed if he was supposed to ask her any questions. He could see it now – _Do you scream like that with everyone?_ The second being what he would do to have her in his bed again. Blinking away from her as she stepped back, he came back to reality and took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to skip the interview and say the hell with his job, he still needed it. He had an apartment and bills to pay, not to mention helping his sister through the last leg of college. And if he didn't do this article, it wouldn't just be his job.

"Troy Bolton," he extended his hand to her, hoping she would take it. But she didn't. Passing behind him, she rounded the table and nodded as Ryan pulled out her chair.

"Gabriella," she said softly. He presumed she did that just so her uncle wouldn't think she was rude.

"That's a beautiful name." _Could you sound any more corny?_ He sat down again, reminding himself to smack himself after the interview and pulled on his writing pad and was ready to get to work….anything to speed the interview so he could talk to her alone.

"Thank you," she quietly said, studying her music more than really paying attention to what her Uncle actually wanted her here for.

"Named after her grandmother," Alberto announced and for the rest of the interview Troy was sucked into his stories and adventures of not only the resort but of his family as well. It reminded him of the sort of stories his own grandmother would tell to him.

The next hour and a half, Troy spent trying to sneak in glances at Gabriella all while writing notes and listening to whatever Ryan and Alberto had to say about the resort. They were interesting people to say the least, but they weren't as interesting at the Mexican beauty beside him. He had learned that Ryan was the one getting married, that the resort's namesake was Alberto's wife and not because of the silver rose bushes surrounding the acreage that had been there for forever and he had also learned that most people that came here, didn't come for the outstanding spa or services and they did come here for the five star restaurant of golf or even the stables. Instead, they came here to actually hear and watch Gabriella perform.

Watching her blush at her uncle's praise, Troy leaned back in his chair and started to chew on his pen tip. She was kind of cute when she was embarrassed. He caught himself though, sitting back up straight and paying attention to Alberto and immediately took notice as he and Ryan both stood up from the table.

"I do apologize for my own exit, Troy."

"No apology necessary, Mr. Ramirez. I understand. I also have more than enough information to write a piece on your resort."

"Glad to hear that. But stick around, interview my niece. She's the one who this article should be about anyhow."

"I can see she is."

"Uncle Al! I have a 5 o'clock show," Gabriella tried to protest as he just practically gave Troy a valid excuse to spend more time with her.

"Better yet Troy, stay for her show," Alberto winked at Gabriella, who slumped and huffed back into her seat and shook hands with Troy once again. "It was a pleasure."

"Always, Mr. Ramirez. Ms. McKessie will call you to see the draft."

"Thank you. Ryan, come along," Alberto and his, literally, right hand man around the massive resort, left out of Angelica's. That left him and Gabriella alone together. Let the real awkwardness begin.

&&&

Troy Bolton. He was Troy Bolton; the Troy Bolton. Of the Albuquerque Times. The investigative reporter, who usually lied, cheated and slept his way to a story. Just like his latest one. Or at least that's what she had always heard. He was Troy Bolton. And she had slept with him. Three times. And God help her, wouldn't mind if it happened again but at the same time her head kept telling her no. Damn, she needed a drink and it wasn't even five yet. Sitting back up straight in her chair and pushing the music forward, she watching him stroll back to the lone table in the corner that was a bit secluded from the rest. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Who in the hell could resist him when was looking like that? His shaggy, dark hair just brushed barely over his eyes; a tucked in, dark green shirt and a pair of black slacks…dammit! _Stop thinking you want to tear his clothes off, Gabriella._

He cleared his throat and took his seat beside her once again. Neither, obviously, was sure of what to say next. And all she knew was that she slept with, "Troy Bolton," she paused, putting emphasis on his last name and looking back up at him, leaning in a bit, "You're Troy _fucking_ Bolton."

"And you're Gabriella Montez," Troy leaned back, bringing his hands up to his mouth and wiggling his fingers just below his lips. "You lied to me."

"No, I didn't. My God, you're Troy Bolton!"

"You said your name was Ella."

"It is…Gabri…ella," she emphasized to him. "Not a lie. Lots of people call me that."

"Name one."

"Other than you? My mom called me that. My aunt still does. Why am I even answering that? I don't have to answer anything."

"Wow, big crowd. Should I feel special?"

"Dammit Troy, why didn't you…" she stopped as soon as she saw Zeke approaching from the side with a couple of waters from the bar.

They both quieted down and sat there in an awkward silence again as the bartender placed the tray down. Sliding the waters and a special plate for her over onto the table, this was the first time Zeke saw the man's face and his eyes immediately grew wider. Gabriella knew that he knew who he was now and everything else just took a left turn. Running her hand over her now tired face, she whispered, "Thanks Zeke," and grabbed the water a little too violently for both men's taste.

"Um...no problem. Is there anything else I can get you two? Aspirin?"

"I would say a scotch but…"

"They don't serve liquor until 8," Gabriella cut him of before Zeke could even answer the man.

Troy's eyes locked with hers into some sort of staring contest and Zeke was not going to be the one to butt in and actually correct Gabriella on her previous statement. They actually started serving at six but given the circumstances before him, he wasn't going to give any to either of them for the rest of the night. Retreating from the scene, he tucked the tray under his arm and smirked. He loved a good soap opera, but one like this was better viewed from the bar with a bowl of pretzels.

She could feel his eyes on her and while she wouldn't admit that she didn't like it, it wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling in the world either. Pulling on her music, she moved to get up as well and clutched the water in her hand, almost ready for it to be five o'clock already just so it would be halfway to two a.m. when she usually finally got out of the resort.

"Where are you going?"

"Seeing as this so called interview is over, I'm going back to my stage," Gabriella informed him and started to walk back to the back entrance. But that didn't stop him from gathering up his stuff quickly and following her. "Stop following me, Troy."

"Not going to happen. See, this interview isn't over," he told her, weaving through the tables in the theatre and rows of chairs to catch up with her as she made her way up to the piano that was waiting for her.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't," Troy wasn't giving up, hot on her trail…just like a reporter. "Ella…Gabriella, stop." And she did, making him almost run over her in return.

"What do you want Troy? You got your interview, what else do you want from me? One night stands are supposed to be just that – one night." She turned around again suddenly as he tossed his stuff on the edge of the stage and faced her. He was close and she wanted for the world to just disappear and the boots on her feet to go away. Damn boots. It was all about the boots. He was now way too close to her, any closer and it would definitely be all down hill from there.

"I know. One night," his voice was low and husky and his fingers dangerously to her own and she could feel the heat between them. There shouldn't be this much heat – not after only 48 hours and definitely not when the person was supposed to be just a one night stand.

His digits feathered over the top of her palm, caressing her skin just barely that she had to bite on her lip to keep from letting him know how much she wanted him to touch her like that. It was erotic, to say the least and it shouldn't be happening here on her stage, in El Cora. But she was sure he had had sex in much odder places. He was in fact, Troy Bolton.

Opening her eyes back up and gazing up at him, her lips parted just so and she let it go; the gasp she was holding in. "We can't do this Troy."

"Why not?" He whispered back, his hand making its way inside of her short sleeved shirt. "We both want this."

"No," she suddenly pushed him away, "it's what you want. It's not what I want. I'm not a sex toy, Troy."

"I never said you were," he said, coming right back to her and wrapping his arm loosely around the base of her waist, tugging her closer to him. Her body stayed stiff as his hand been discovering her once again. It was just a touch, an enticing one as his fingers teased her skin and had her wanting more than just a touch. His other hand left the base of her waist and weaved through her curls. She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes again, not paying attention to anything else around her.

"Troy, we can't…" her voice trailed off again. She remembered his hands and never thought they could be this sensuous, but they were. Gently caressing her skin still and teasing her senses, she was getting lost in the moment and she shouldn't be. They couldn't do this here and she still had to get ready for the five o'clock show and that didn't leave enough time for her to drag him back to the suite and make love to him again, making him a two night stand. _Get those thoughts out of your head, Gabriella!_

Shaking her head away from his hand, she backed away again and just looked up at him, not noticing Zeke standing in the doorway with a little girl and her mother. "We can't. It can't happen again," Gabriella told him, letting his hands drop from her own and looked to where the bartender had cleared his throat. "Yes Zeke?" she announced louder as the three made their way to the stage.

Troy took a step back as well and leaned up against the stage and watched the little blonde hair girl hide behind her mother as they came close to the singer. She couldn't be more than five and had the deepest green eyes he had ever seen.

"You have another admirer Miss Montez," Zeke announced and lured the little girl from her mother. "This is Natalie and she," he looked up at Gabriella while still crouching down to Natalie's level, "loves how you sing."

Gabriella's mood turned around again, from being pissed off at Troy to wanting him to flattered by the little girl who came into El Cora to meet her. "She does? Does Natalie want to hear a song?" she asked sweetly and the girl nodded her head up and down several times. "Well, then, let's see what we can do about that," Gabriella extended her hand to the little girl and she hesitantly took it.

Gabriella led her up the stairs and took her by the baby grand piano that sat by the other instruments in the back and pulled Natalie up on the bench with her. Troy watched her from there, barely listening to the small conversation between Zeke and the little girl's mother. He was too transfixed on her. It was amazing to him how she could change moods just like that but he smiled up at her anyway, knowing he was in for the time of his life with her.

"Is there anything I should be worried about?" Zeke's voice startled Troy as he turned towards him and the sound of a melody started to echo throughout the stage room.

"No, nothing at all," it was his standard answer…even to his mother when she called to check on him most times. Looking back to the stage, he got lost in the melody and how addicting her voice could become. John was right, she was phenomenal.

_I don't know why but I'm feeling so sad  
I long to try something I never had  
Never had no kissin'  
Oh, what you been missin'  
Lover man, oh, where can you be?_

Her voice was sweet and sultry, something that he definitely wanted to hear more of. This was quite a hell of a day – for her and him. He showed up here wanting to find her, never imagining he actually would and so far, he was not regretting it. And the bonus? He found his story.

* * *

I make no excuses for the suckiness of this chapter. Troy and Gabby were playing games with me on what they wanted to do in the stage room. 


	4. Persistent

**Chapter Three: Persistent**

The four sat at the bar, watching Gabriella belt her soul out into the once famous Billie Holiday song that everyone in the hotel wanted to hear. The resort was packed for A Night of Billie with people standing up against the wall and trailing out of the doors. It still amazed the four of them that no matter what had happened during the day, she could step on stage and perform like she was born for it. The world simply melted away when she was up there and only thing she could see was the band behind her. She became a different person then, one who had nothing to fear.

"Are you sure she hasn't read it?" Sharpay asked amongst them, still staring up at her friend and holding on to the cocktail Zeke had just conjured up for her a few seconds ago. The man did know how to make a perfect cocktail.

"No," Kelsi said quickly.

"Says she doesn't want to," Zeke piped in, leaning against the counter as he flew a spare towel over his shoulder and watched Gabriella up on stage. Her voice wavered into the next octave and the song took on a new rendition to the original hit. He grabbed another beer for Ryan behind the bar and shoved it towards him, looking at Sharpay briefly as she swiveled back around to the bar again and started to re-read a copy of the Albuquerque Sun Times once again.

The article by the one and only Troy Bolton had hit stands two days ago and was the reason the resort staff had to turn people away because they were overcrowded. It was one of the best articles they had ever seen the investigative reporter write actually; even Taylor McKessie had to admit that. She had called not two hours after Troy had finally left the resort with a six page draft in her hands and Ryan was amazed that he had been able to write it in such a short time.

"How can she not want to read this? It's like a…love letter," Sharpay suggested, receiving wide eyes from Zeke in return.

"A love letter?"

"Yeah," Sharpay's fingertips grazed over the newspaper print carefully, "A voice gentle like holding someone's hand to sultry like a sinful act was in the making. My Broadway loving grandmother would only hope and dream of me bringing a girl with a voice home like this. El Cora houses the actual heart of the resort – Gabriella Montez.' That's a love letter."

Zeke chuckled to himself; maybe it was just him out of the four that knew what Troy Bolton really was to Gabriella and possibly would only ever be: her one night stand. The way he had walked in on them the other day – they were definitely more than just acquaintances and the article only seemed to back up Zeke's theory that this wasn't just going to be a one night stand for either of them.

"How can she not want to read this again?" Sharpay rhetorically asked; her brow creasing as she looked up at Zeke and her brother and future sister-in-law turned back to the bar as well. "He's praising her."

"They got off on the wrong foot apparently," Kelsi told the group, shortly recalling her friend's phone call after the interview took place. The only thing Gabriella failed to mention to her was that he was the one…the one who made love to her and wanted never to stop. Zeke knew by default, he had seen the love in her eyes and the way her breath rasped when Troy had stepped back and away in El Cora a few days ago. There was definite tension.

"With Love Letter guy? How? Why? Ryan, you were there, what happened?" Sharpay reached over Kelsi's small frame and slapped her brother's arm to get his attention.

"Ok, owww. What was that for?"

"Reporter. Gabby. What happened?"

"I don't know. I was with Al. We left Bolton and Gabriella after about two hours. And why are you so interested?"

"Did you not read this article Ryan? It's a freakin' love letter!"

Kelsi chuckled between the brother and sister duo, watching them go back and forth on why exactly he wasn't with Gabriella until Troy left. He had a good excuse though – getting an updated glimpse of the conservatory for their wedding. The song slowed and they heard Gabriella announce a fifteen minute break for the band. Zeke cleared his thought and noticed her heading their way. Mixing up a straight shot quickly, he greeted her with a smile and pushed it towards her, "Hello Billie."

"I was just coming for more water, but why not?" she glanced at the clear glass of pure liquid gold and flicked it back in her throat. "And why are you guys staring at me?" She also noticed the trio on the edge of the bar sizing her up and down. And like expected Sharpay was the first to speak up.

"Please tell me that you're certifiable."

"Excuse me?"

"Nuts, insane, borderline schizophrenic, something along those lines."

Gabriella looked back to Zeke, her eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other in confusion.

"Troy Bolton," were the only words he had to say for her to roll her eyes, let out a groan and pulled the now open water bottle towards her lips.

"Seriously, insane, right?"

"Drop it Sharpay. I don't care in reading it or what he has to say," she turned on her heels, a smile back on her face within seconds and made her way back to the stage with four water bottles in her arms.

"Yep, insane," Sharpay huffed and looked back at Zeke.

Kelsi pushed herself off the bar and followed Gabriella on her way back to the stage. She was acting strange and Kelsi knew something was up, something was definitely off. Gabriella had this character trait of always thinking the best of people; it was a trademark of hers. Her not showing any interest in the article was something to raise an eyebrow to. Sneaking in between Jeff and Maria, the two guitarists in the band on stage, Kelsi pulled on her arm and back to her side. "What is up with you?" she asked, only audible to the band surrounding them.

"Um, nothing Kels, why?"

"Then why won't you read the article?"

"Oh my God, not you too," Gabriella rolled her eyes and handed the last water over to the piano player. Tucking a stray hair back in a bobby pin, she looked back at her best friend who stood there with her teacher stare. Another groan escaped from her throat. She hated the teacher stare. It was like she was forcing her to tell her why she wouldn't read it and for to do that, that was another conversation for another room and not in front of the band or when she was that close to microphones. Talk about a guilt trip. "Later Kelsi."

"No, now."

"Later," Gabriella stated once more before Kelsi took things into her own hands again and dragged her away from the stage and into the dressing room backstage. Shutting the door behind them, they stood amongst the performance outfits for the band with Gabriella's taking up most of the space within the confines. Tonight the band had all dressed to the nines in their best 1930s attire they could find. But an outfit change was not on Gabriella's nor Kelsi's mind. "Come on, Kelsi. I have five minutes left."

"Which is why you need to tell me really quick," the tiny brunette crossed her arms and stared her friend down for an answer. She hated getting the looks but unfortunately for Kelsi, her best friend was now immune to her classic looks.

"Look, there's nothing to tell. I just don't want to read the damn thing. Why is everyone making such a big deal out of this?"

"Because I know you and you don't just brush off an article about the resort. There's something else about this and you're acting really shady about it. I don't get why you won't read it. And like Shar said, it's a love letter to you." Kelsi didn't want to scream at Gabriella, but she was making it difficult with the rolling of her eyes like she didn't want to listen. Tearing her back away from the door, she stared her down again. She wasn't going to let this go very easily. "I'm a teacher Gabby; I can get seven year olds to tell me things like that," she snapped her fingers with ease, "Don't make me do it to you as well."

Letting her hands slip from around her best friend's arms, Kelsi watched Gabriella's eyes avoid hers and her shoulders slumped down from the posture they were at. And Gabriella knew she would have to tell Kelsi sooner or later, just the later was what she preferred, especially since she was in the middle of a performance and her emotional stability at the moment was not where it should be.

"I can count to five if you'd like…"

"I slept with him alright!" Gabriella yelled back at her, and watched her friends' mouth drop slightly. "Is that all you wanted to hear? I slept with the sleazy Troy Bolton before I knew who he actually was. He's the one with the hands and the tantalizing mouth and I don't want to read the article, okay?"

It took a minute for Kelsi to gather up all the things that she had just told her. Gabriella's one night stand was Troy Bolton. The Troy Bolton. Now it all made sense. All except for the sleazy part. "Okay," her soft voice followed her gaze as she watched the singer remove herself from the dressing room without a word and return to her spotlight on the stage. Now she knew and Kelsi bet that their favorite bartender did as well.

As she exited the dressing room herself, Kelsi's ears were filled with the blues-y sounds of Billie Holiday; sights of people from near and far intently watching the infamous Gabriella Montez of Albuquerque lit her view and she rejoined her friends at the bar again. Nodding towards Zeke, Kelsi took the paper from Sharpay's hands and folding it to the article in question just so, smiling as the words of Mr. Bolton lit up her own eyes. If it was one person she knew like she knew herself, it was Gabriella and Gabriella needed to read it. If she had thought of him sleazy before the night she re-met him, then she needed to be proven wrong again. Sharpay was right. It was a love letter.

&

It was nearly three thirty in the morning once she was all done and was about ten seconds from crashing as soon as her head hit any pillow in sight. Pulling her hair down from the fancy bun fastened in the back of her head, she let the curls tumble down onto her shoulders and looked at herself in the vanity mirror for a mere second. It had been an eventful night. A Night of Billie had been a perfect hit and she could not be happier, but her gut told her that the crowd tonight was not because of her but only because Troy had written that article. Her eyes fell downwards. She only wished it would be because they enjoyed the music that half of Albuquerque would come and not just because of the article. Grabbing the hoodie on the back of the chair, she got up and threw it around her shoulders. She had never been this tired after a performance, another thing to thank Troy for. From mingling with a few guests, posing for pictures (that never happened) and once gain trying to convince Sharpay that she didn't care about the article or the writer for that matter, she deserved a good night's sleep.

Her flat covered feet carried her to the center of El Cora once again, as she passed over the stage, making everything was clean and clear so the band could meet up tomorrow and practice instead of cleaning their mess up from the night before. Nodding over to Zeke who was still behind the bar and already working on Angelica's totals for the evening, she offered him a soft smile. Most times she would stay over and help him but tonight she was beat and didn't even plan on shedding any clothes when she got home. She just wanted to sleep.

Making her way to the staff exit, she slowed down her pace when she heard her name being called once again. Although she knew who the voice belonged to, she had to wonder what she was still doing here this late when this was most definitely a school night. "Kelsi, what are you doing here so late?"

"Ryan wanted to give me a preview of the conservatory. We um..." she bit her lip and blushed slightly.

"Okay, so not going to look at that place the same way again," Gabriella blinked and tried to get the flashes of Kelsi and Ryan getting it on out of her mind. She didn't need that image in her mind at all.

"Sorry. But I just want you to know that I'm sorry. If you don't want to read the article, you don't have to, even if it is really good. It's your choice."

"Thank you," Gabriella spit out, a little bewildered at Kelsi's apology. She was going to give it a day; the two were best friends, they couldn't go a full day without talking to each other.

"That's all and you did wonderful tonight."

Gabriella let a soft smile grace her lips and continued on her original path to her car that would ultimately lead her to her bed. She didn't know that Kelsi and her one night stand had other plans for her.

&

Digging through her black satchel the next morning, Gabriella cursed herself as she poured out everything within the confines. Pushing away all the little things like her chapstick and wallet, she rummaged through the bigger pieces, trying to find the sheet music for tonight's performance. She remembered stuffing it into the satchel before she left El Cora last night. It was a new theme which meant an hour more of practice tonight.

"Argh," Gabriella groaned, tearing apart most of the papers before her. Grabbing the last possible one, she only glanced at it once more and let out another one. "I understand if you don't want to read the article," she mocked Kelsi's words playfully and set the paper aside and only smiled bigger once she sheet music appeared under it. "Finally. Billie was never this difficult."

Following the notes over with her eyes, Gabriella got into the fluid melody of the old Gershwin piece, humming it aloud and returning to her place on the couch to finish her orange juice that woke her up for the day. Trailing over the blackened notes, she opened the sheets, softly remembering that the Gershwin's were the ones that made her fall I love with music in the first place. Funny Face was the first musical film that she loved without regret and made it her life's mission to memorize the full thing, which she had much to her mother's dismay. Having it playing all over their home when she was younger was something that her mother both loved and loathed. But as much as she loved their music still, the newspaper sitting on top of the kitchen counter was flashing towards her. Forcing her eyes back to the sheet music, she went back to humming the melody of the song. "That certain feeling, The first time I met you, I hit the ceiling, I could not forget you," her voice trailed off, reading over the lyrics to the gentle music.

Flipping herself off the couch, "damn you Kelsi and Sharpay," she muttered as the paper lay rest before her on the counter again. This was bad when your friends invaded your thoughts this much, it really was. But if it really was a love letter, she wanted to be the one to determine that. Opening the paper to the right page with a bright photo of the resort at the top, his words began to flood her mind.

Albuquerque is not the Big Apple, it's actually far from it, but one thing I can always call the city of my birth is enchanting. This is the Land of Enchantment after all…

"Cheesy, Troy, very cheesy," she smirked and continued to read on, despite her wavering thoughts on how wrong this was to even be reading it. But she couldn't like and hate the guy. It was either one or the other.

Although this may be the city of my birth and the place where my friends became best and basketball became my life, I never knew we had a Times Square here. Not kidding, we do. Complete with a five star luxurious resort attached and a songstress from Mt. Olympus.

She kept reading, still against her better judgment and smiled as he complemented her uncle's weird ability to name almost every room and suite at the resort after someone he knew. She still had yet to find one with her name though. She still couldn't figure out why Uncle Alberto did it, but it obviously interested Troy enough to write about it. And what interested her most was what he spent the last five paragraphs of the article on: her. She didn't like him; at least she didn't think she did even if they had shared one intimate night together. But her mother always had told her that first impressions don't last all that long, it's the second ones that do. Gabriella had heard so many stories from patrons about the reporter that it tainted her own view of him and it made her sick to know that she had slept with him. Maybe it was time to figure out if she did like him. He did have a way with words.

The goddess from Mt. Olympus has a home at El Cora, and as the translation proves, she is the heart of the resort. Named for her grandmother, Miss Montez and her pure voice will draw you in and captivate you from the start. If that doesn't do the trick, go to Angelica's, where you'll hear the staff's praises of her, have them fix you a drink that will be just what your tongue fancies and you'll be lured by her once again. I know I was.

&

"I can't give you that information ma'am. I really can't," Martha Cox stood her ground, trying to reason with the petite brunette who was more than persistent on getting Troy's address. Corbin passed by briefly, eyeing the assistant suspiciously while his eyes went to the lady standing there trying to make a case. Shaking her head at the sportswriter showing interest in the scene, Martha desperately wanted him to just keep on his path back to flirt with Taylor or back to his desk. She could handle the brunette by herself.

"I know, I know. But…I just need to see him. It's important."

"Unless you're pregnant with his love child, it's not that important. And this would be the first instance in that," Martha rolled off her tongue and really looked at the girl with worry. "You're not, are you?"

"No, God, no. But….I know you're not supposed to and I'm not even sure how I charmed my way up here past security, but I really need to see Mr. Bolton. He wrote this article and…"

"Oh, you're just a fan?" Martha interrupted her.

"I wouldn't say that….please. Something, anything. A vicinity would be nice."

"This is why he's unlisted everywhere Miss…"

"Montez. Gabriella Montez," she closed her eyes hoping the secretary would take pity on her and just let her have the man's address. That whole fake pregnancy ploy was also good too. She should've gone along with that in the first place.

"You're the singer."

"You're the one that he doesn't change clothes for? Damn, boy gets all the goods," Chad slurred off his tongue as his eyes followed Gabriella's body up and down. His head lunged forward mere moments after that thanks to Martha's hand to the back of his head. The smack didn't phase him though, he was that used to it.

"I feel I should apologize for him to you, but I don't feel there's a point. He'll keep doing it."

"How about you point me in the direction of Troy and we'll call it even?" Gabriella hoped. She hated the blackmail of this all, but if it would get her to Troy, she'd use it. She just really needed to see him about the article. Who knew when he would show up at the resort again, if at all and there were less than two hours now until rehearsal. "Please?"

Martha eyed the petite brunette. She was torn really – on one hand she had to protect her boss and on the other, she really wanted to give her his address and she didn't know why. But there was something about the singer in front of her that made her trust her without even doing a background check on her. She knew that Gabriella was more than just a floozy fan with only intentions of bedding Troy and skipping town. Martha was a true investigator and just by looking at Gabriella knew that she had much bigger and better intentions than that. Pulling out a bright colored post-it note, Martha scribbled down Troy's address that she knew by heart and placed it into Gabriella's hand.

"Buzz his neighbor to get in, Mr. McDowell. If he's not there, he's at the Starlight Café. But you have to promise me that you're not going to kill him." She held onto Gabriella's hand tightly, looking for reassurance. Troy wasn't just her boss, but her friend as well.

"I promise and thank you," Gabriella smiled at her widely and backtracked her way to the elevator.

Martha turned back to face Chad and smacked him one more for good measure as the brunette faded into the boxed car. "You're the one he doesn't change clothes for? Are you seriously that dumb?!"

"What?" Chad did a double take at Martha rolling her eyes and sitting back down at her desk. "She's hot."

"Go chase after Taylor some more, Chad. That's one thing you can't go wrong in."

&

This was wrong. Completely wrong. She shouldn't even be here – in front of his door, itching to just go in there and kiss him for the praises he gave both her and the resort. She should not be even thinking about kissing him or anything of the sort. If she kissed him, that would lead to clothes being thrown out the window and her in his bed. She didn't need to kiss him. She didn't completely hate him but she didn't like him all that well either, especially after he failed to disclose who he really was…but then again she didn't either. Oh, this thing was so damn complicated. Taking a deep breath, she heard Mr. McDowell close his door to his condo just beside of Troy's and silently thanked him once again. He was a kind man, a stay at home dad actually with a young son not any older than Kelsi's students. He had been thankful for the break in his work as he showed her down to Troy's door and returned to his own. In all honesty, she was expecting someone graying and struggling to even let her in, but she was grateful that he wasn't.

Staring at the door for just about five minutes longer than planned, there was less than an hour before she had to be at El Cora and ready to go over the Gershwin music. Shutting her eyes tightly, her hand knocked against the light frame with gold numbering on it, Gabriella turned around from the door and crossed her arms around her middle. "I am insane, bonafide certifiable," she muttered to herself as she heard his voice behind the door. Taking a deep breath, she turned back around right as his door opened and took him in. His hair was slightly wet from the remnants of a shower and only wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. Just the thought of how easily those could be off his body was enough for Gabriella to shake her head and blink a couple times. This was going to be harder than she originally thought. "Hi."

Ten Reviews are a must for the next chapter.


	5. Contact

&&&

**Between the Lines**  
Contact

&&&

Ebony curls surrounded her frame, highlighting the features he swore his hands had mesmerized a few nights before. A whisper caught in his throat as she looked just as good in jeans as she did in hooker boots and even her show outfits, although he had yet to see a show. Flip flops adorned her feet, making her shorter than he had first suspected and he was still shocked she was at his door, standing there in front of him waiting for him to say something. Her lips parted slightly again, wanting to say something more. She was hesitating and he wished she wouldn't run the other way. Hell, her even finding out where he lived and showing up at his door after the cycle of their meeting was more than amazing to him. "Ella."

"Hi," she breathed out, not sure what to do next. Her mind hadn't thought past going to see him.

Troy moved slightly back from his stance in the doorway, opening the door and waving his hand for her to come inside, hoping she would. There was still the hesitation though. He guessed she needed the full invitation. "I won't bite," he simply said.

"If I remember correctly, you do," a soft smile curved on her lips as he reciprocated the gesture. She was right, he did bite. And she had liked it. "I, um…"

"Ella, come in, please," he told her once more as her feet lightly touched the ground in front of her. Soft soles hit the unfinished hardwood of his condo's foyer and her eyes glanced around the spacious room. It had been unfinished for years, as he had never had enough time to decorate it himself. And even if he had the time, the place would probably be the same. A couch sat in the middle of a blank room with only a flat screen television in front of it. To the side was a small table with only two chairs surrounding it as she stopped and stared at the place for a few moments more, waiting for him to follow or at least lead her in one direction or the other.

Stopping at the entrance to the open kitchen, she felt his eyes on her back and turned around to face him. Swiping away the curls in her face, Gabriella took a deep breath before they both attempted to say anything.

"Ella…"

"Troy…" she stopped just as he had. She had made the attempt to form words but it wasn't working. That mission went right out the window as soon as a smirk slipped onto his face; a smirk that was deemed irresistible. How could one guy make her feel this nervous and vulnerable all in one look? Her bag loosened on her shoulder and dropped to the floor and with two more steps forward, she was in his arms and her lips slipped onto his again. She didn't hesitate and neither did he. Troy was taken by surprise, to say the least but two moments after the shock of her lips on his, he wasn't turning back. There had been really no turning back as soon as he saw her at the resort the day of the interview. He closed his eyes softly, getting completely lost in her.

His arms encircled her waist, pulling her body closer to his and backed them into the handing counter behind them. He tempted to move his lips from her delectable mouth down her jaw line but she wasn't having it. Her lips caught his again and pulled him back in. His tongue slid into her mouth and her breath hitched. Parting her lips ever so much and breaking the heated kiss, Gabriella took a deep breath and leaned her head against his. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked, breathless himself.

"Kissing you. I shouldn't even be kissing you," she paused. "Not like that."

Troy smiled a bit as she debated why their kiss shouldn't have happened in her head and aloud. He brushed a lock of her hair away from her beautiful face. "Don't be. I think we both enjoyed it."

"Not the point. I still shouldn't have done that," she told him once again as he stayed still. He liked the feeling of having her in his arms like this.

"It was fine Ella."

"Gab…riella," she emphasized.

"Right," he backed away from her. "Gabriella," he said in all seriousness, but couldn't shake the thought of pulling her back in his arms and taking her to his bedroom out of his head. But the switch went from hot to cold on her and Troy was getting more confused. "So, what are you doing here? And how did you find out where I live?"

"I'm sorry, I just…" she paused looking back at him as he pulled out a stool from under the counter for her to sit on while he made his way into the kitchen. She watched him tear open the fridge for a bottle of water. She could definitely see why the women couldn't resist him – her included. He was almost perfect – even with clothes on. "I, um, read the article," she muttered.

"Oh?"

"Yea. I didn't really want to but I did and I just came here to…God, I don't know why I came here. I just…I guess I needed to see you to tell you I read it and…yea."

"And you couldn't have just called because…"

"Well, you're unpublished."

"Which brings us back to how you know where I live," he raised his eyebrow a bit and Gabriella couldn't help but smile at him. It was official, she had been sucked into the Troy Bolton charm and she didn't know how exactly she felt about that.

"I have my sources."

"I'm an investigative reporter, Ella. I do have my ways of finding out your _sources_."

"Gabriella," she again reminded him.

"I think we're friendlier than that."

"We're not friends Troy. I don't what the hell we are other than one-night-stands."

"We're more than that," he said without question. Her eyes locked with his in surprise. "Don't give me those wide eyes. You know and I know that we're much more than that. I felt something that night and I know you did too."

"Great," she rolled her eyes, "another name to add to your never-ending post list."

"What?" he set the water down and walked back over to her.

"Look, I'm not here to see what we are or what we're not. I simply came here to say I guess, thank you on the article. No one has even said anything like that about me or my uncle's resort before and that's pretty much all I came here to say," she stated, picking up her bag and heading towards the door. But she wasn't quick enough though. He was blocking her escape and she didn't know of another way out.

"Oh, no you don't. What did you mean by post list?"

"Nothing, just leave it."

"No, I won't. I know we aren't the best of friends but if you want to continue this relationship of sorts, which I intend to, I think we need to clear a few things up."

"I didn't come here to argue or find out about things that I could gossip about you."

"I get that. Just tell me what you meant. Oh, wait, let me guess. You were the one hearing the gossip about me and a post list all because I was on that dumb bachelor list, right? Or you heard some ridiculous story about how I slept my way to the top."

"Maybe," she said softly, avoiding his gaze altogether.

Letting out a laugh, Troy didn't care right then what she thought about it. "I don't have a post list. I may be a slimy reporter sometimes but I'm not like that. You are actually the only one night stand I've ever had."

"Great." He could hear the sarcasm in her voice and see it in her eyes.

"Look, just don't believe the gossip. If that was all true, don't you think I'd flaunt it a little more?"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Nice try," Gabriella moved to get around him but he had blocked her again. "Troy, I have to get to work. I have three shows tonight."

"I know."

"Good, do if you can move now…"

"Have lunch with me?"

"What? Did you not just hear what I said? I have to get to work."

"Your first show is at six tonight. That's five hours from now."

"You know, I find it just a bit creepy that you know that and I can't. Gershwin takes a bit more time for my band to master."

"Then when?"

"When what?"

"When will you have lunch with me?"

"When you ask me on a proper date," she quickly answered, side-stepping him to get out the door. Opening the latch, she was almost free when she felt his hand on her arm again. "Tro…" Cut off by the sweetness of his lips once again, she melted into him. Damn those lips!

"Just wanted to give you a proper goodbye."

"Goodbye," her breath was shaky as she pulled her hands off from behind his neck and fluttered them over his chest.

"Good luck tonight."

"Mmmhmm, I'll, um, see you later."

"Is that a promise?" He smirked, hoping it would be, but she didn't give an answer.

Detaching herself from his arms, Gabriella turned on a dime and sped out of the hallway, not noticing Mr. McDowell peak his head out of his door once again. Too involved in her own thoughts of Troy, his kisses and his declaration of the no-post list, she unconsciously touched her fingers to her lips. What the hell had just happened?

&&&

Alberto stared into El Cora with a wide smile on his face and watched as a frustrated young songbird brushed back her ebony curls from her Latina face and erased what she had just written on the sheet of music for the twentieth time since he had slipped into the back of the room. She was the spitting image of his sister with the same chocolate eyes and long wavy locks that all the Ramirez women had acquired from their Spanish blood right down to cute button nose. She was absolutely beautiful and as much as he loved seeing her come to life on the stage during her nightly shows, these were the times he was most proud of her – when she was in her element, deep into her music.

He chuckled lightly as he heard her groan at the last few notes she played and slipped down into on of the back seats. He didn't have basically anything planned for today except a quick meeting with Ryan about the conservatory construction that was nearing the decorating stages, and that was later on in the day. Her voice soothed his nerves and calmed his body instantly. Alberto had never really told her how much he enjoyed her singing or even how much she sounded like her mother, but he now made a mental note to tell her. Snapping from his transfixed stare on his niece on stage, he pulled his gaze over and up to Zeke, manned with a glass of water for him from the bar that was already serving resort guests.

"She sounds beautiful, doesn't she?" the bartender questioned her uncle.

"Yes. Always has," Alberto cleared his throat and sat up right and quickly changed the subject. "You look like you're ready for a busy night?"

"Always are, but to be honest, Friday nights aren't always our busiest."

"Oh?"

"Tuesdays and Saturdays are the best days. Especially when she does her own stuff."

"What is she doing tonight?"

"I spied a bit of soul music when she came in this morning," Zeke smiled big. He had always enjoyed it when Gabriella channeled her inner Tina Turner.

"Zeke, sit down with me, please," Alberto urged the tall man. "Do you know if she's planning to audition for anyone soon?"

"She hasn't told me anything, sir. I'm hoping she does though. Albuquerque isn't the only place her voice should be heard."

"I'll drink to that."

&&&

"What are you still doing here?" Martha's voice rang throughout Troy's corner office. But yet, the reporter himself didn't flinch at the echo. "You're never here this late."

"And it still perplexes me that you are, everyday."

"Hey, it takes a lot to be Troy Bolton's secretary…and Chad Danforth's babysitter."

"I'll give you the second one," Troy turned away from his computer screen and swiveled back to the file cabinet where he kept, or, more Martha kept his stories he was working on. "Do you know where the Henderson court files were?"

"Second drawer. Why do you need those? I though you handed it over to Scott," Martha sat down in front of him and slipped off her heels for a moment to rest. She had been in them all day, going from meeting to meeting and her feet were not pleasant with her.

"I did, but Cathy just tipped me and I'm looking into it before I give it to Scott."

"You don't trust Cathy anymore? She's been more than a reliable source to you."

"Never did trust her Martha. She's going behind her company's back and giving out confidential information."

"But you use that information…"

"I'm an investigative reporter. It's in my job description."

Martha snorted and rolled her eyes at him before standing back up. There were times that she just didn't understand him. "I'm gone in about five minutes. Kill the lights before you leave."

"Yep, on it." He waved but his eyes were still flashing between the email and the file he had pulled out. Troy didn't know or remember when he was the last in the office this long; all he knew was that he was rushing through this tip. He actually had plans tonight that involved a goddess songstress and his favorite friend, Jack Daniels.

Alberto Ramirez had invited him back to the resort for a show and he wasn't one to pass up a free show, even if he would gladly pay the twelve dollars for Gabriella Montez. Glancing at the time on his computer screen, he jumped from his chair as soon as he pushed send on the email to Scott, pulling double duty as he traded the shirt he had on to another. Gotta love Martha, she was one of the best, if not the best secretary he could ever get. Having a set change of clothes in his office was one of the greatest ideas he would credit to her. The show started at nine and it was now eight fifteen. Trying to play it cool in seeing her again, he wasn't sure if he could pull that off given the state he was in right now. Scrambling from behind his desk, he flipped off the lights in the office and charged into the elevator. Yep, _cool_ was thrown right out the window.

&&&

Red drinks were good for her – they were cool, cold and full of the liquor she craved. Letting the liquid slither down her dry throat was sinfully sweet; discarding the glass back over the counter to Dave before Zeke returned with the waters for the band, Gabriella slipped in a wink right as Zeke placed the tray in front of her.

"I don't know why you just don't have us set up something backstage."

"Because I actually want to get out of backstage, that's why."

"Ahh…and next time? Don't let Dave mix your drinks," Zeke told her and her jaw dropped slightly. "You know the rule about no drink until after the show."

"Right and you're Mr. I-Don't-Drink-On-The-Job," Gabriella shot back, taking the waters to escape back to her band before intermission was over. With a few years of waitressing under her belt, she had always been confident in her balancing skills but today was just one of those days. Crashing into her uncle was not the best way to be introduced to his guest that he had informed her of earlier today. "I swear Uncle Al, you need to wear a cowbell or something," she bent down to pick up the bottles from the floor. The laugh from the bar was a thing she would definitely deal with later.

"You forgot this one."

Gabriella froze mid-stand up at the voice she definitely recognized. Why the hell was he here? Taking the bottle from his hand, she glanced up slightly and was met with clear blue eyes that if stared into any longer, she could be hypnotized by them and forget all about the rest of the show. "Thanks. Um, I gotta go." She didn't give her uncle much choice to re-introduce the two to each other as she bolted from the scene straight for the stage.

This wasn't good. This was pure hell. Things – performing wise – were going good, smoothly and the crowd was enjoying the soul music that they had been playing. But now he was here and all of the sudden, she was terrified. What ifs he got stage freight and couldn't remember the lyrics? Gabriella only had stage freight one time in her life and it had been many, many years ago. Kelsi was actually the only one besides her entire high school to witness it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her way towards the stage and handed off the waters. What the heck was he doing here - other than sucking up to her uncle? She was nervous again and she shouldn't be. Gabriella knew this music through and through; had performed it many times before. But now – it was different. He was here.

"Gabby, you okay?"

"Yea, Jeff, fine."

"Okay, good," the young bass player nodded and took his place once again on stage.

Climbing to center stage tonight, she looked out on the crowd once again. It wasn't necessarily a packed house but it was crowded nonetheless with only a few seats at the main tables left. Chugging down about half the water in her hand, Gabriella took a step back from the mic and turned back to the band. "Wanna add in an original tonight?"

Jeff went wide-eyed, not sure if that was the brightest of ideas in the world since they had only rehearsed one of her originals in the past five days.

"Wait, what am I saying? Forget it," she retracted the idea just as soon as she suggested it. What was she thinking?

"You sure you're okay?"

"Fine, just," she paused, looking back out to the audience and immediately focused in on the blue eyes that were fixated on her already. "Let's just play the hell out of these songs."

Truth was she wasn't okay. The butterflies in her stomach that she had since her run in with him at the bar told her that. But she would be.

&&&

The sun was too bright, it was too early and she couldn't recall how on each she had made it home. All Gabriella could really remember from last night was that a shot with Zeke turned into an in-depth conversation with Troy which in turn, turned into a heavy lip-lock in the parking lot against his car. His lips on hers had made all her nerves disappear after the show. She didn't know how it happened – much like yesterday morning – and she couldn't remember what the heck they were talking about, all she knew was that he loved the feel of his lips against hers. She remembered him being flattering – him saying he enjoyed the show and it was good and not just because her uncle had asked him back out to see her perform. She remembered a round of beers that Zeke had joined in on and talk of Ryan and Kelsi's wedding started. Trying to change the subject back to something else was a lost cause and Troy, surprisingly, seemed genuinely interested. Beer was her downfall – and of course his twitchy smile only made her smile more.

Heading to her first dress fitting now, Gabriella turned right down Connor Street and hoped to make it in time so Kelsi wouldn't have a fit. But she knew she shouldn't worry, Kelsi was still actually deciding on what color she wanted the dresses anyhow. As the red light at the cross-section caught her, the brunette slipped her sunglasses off and leaned back in the seat of her white Sebring. The chatter of townspeople filled her ears as she waited for the light to turn green. It was common knowledge that this was one of the longest lights in Albuquerque anyhow. She kept imagining his lips on hers still; the way they tasted, the way they teased, even the way they parted and lingered down her jaw line. If she hadn't has had the appointment this morning and if he wouldn't have stopped their motions, she had no doubt that they would've ended up tangled between the sheets again.

Opening her eyes back up and brushing her curly locks to the side, Gabriella spotted a navy awning up ahead with a bright star on the side. "Starlight Café," she murmured to herself after the light had turned. Driving the short distance and making the decision that Kelsi needed a bit more time to choose a color, she parked on the end of the street corner, suddenly feeling like a coffee. She and coffee had always gotten along.

"Welcome to Starlight. What can I get you today?" A bubbly red-head greeted her from behind the counter as soon as she entered the almost vacant coffee shop.

"Um, how about a caramel latte and one of those muffins behind you? They look yummy."

"Oh, they are. You're lucky those just came out of the oven too. All nice and warm."

"Just what I like to hear," Gabriella smiled at the girl who went about fixing her order up fast.

She couldn't lie; she had been in the place about two minutes and already liked it. Looks like the resort would take second place if Starlight's coffee was as good as her aunt's. Glancing around the shop only for a moment more, Gabriella turned her head at the sound of the door chiming. With her mouth opening slightly, she knew he came here because of his secretary but she didn't know that running into him would become a ritual.

"Evie, we're here!" he announced to the shop with a small boy that didn't even look two years old in his arms.

"Right on time, as usual," the red head popped her head over the counter again. Sliding the muffin over top and handing it to Gabriella. "It'll be just a second on the latte."

"Thanks," she said, mentally smacking herself for speaking. He would know her voice; a conversation would be started, awkwardness would ensue.

"Gabriella?" There it was.

"Uh, hi, Troy."

"What are you – wait, Timmy. Evie's gotta…"

"It's okay Troy. Let him down. He can come back here and help me," Evie smiled.

"Okay, but behave, please," Troy stared Timmy in the eye before the boy nodded and he put him down on the floor. "What are you doing here? Okay, stupid question. You're getting coffee."

Gabriella giggled softly. "Yea, coffee. I need the sinful caffeine in me before I meet the makings of Bridezilla." Troy lifted one of his eyebrows at her statement. "I may be exaggerating or not."

"Okay. Who's getting married again?"

"Ryan and Kelsi. Who's the boy?"

"Oh, um…"

"I know he's not yours," she murmured. Mental head slap number two coming soon. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Timmy is Alan's son, my neighbor."

"Oh," she sighed, smiling at the young boy behind the country trying to help Evie with his own meal. The redhead slipped on the top to the latte a moment later and handed it to her. "Thanks. How much?"

"That'll be…"

"Evie, just put it with mine."

Gabriella swiveled to Troy while Evie just gaped at him. "That's not necessary. How much?"

"No, I insist."

"Troy, can you just let me pay for my own food?"

"Nope, sorry," she smirked devilishly at her.

"You know, just because we kissed last night doesn't mean you get to do this kind of stuff," her voice hushed as details of last night's foreplay came out.

"What if I want to? What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with that is that I'm not your girlfriend, Troy, ergo you don't have to pay for things for me."

"Anyone ever tell you that you're hot when you get mad?"

"Ugh. Since you're being an ass right now," Gabriella smirked and turned back to Evie. "Put it on his tab or whatever. And then I'll take six more for the girls at the bridal shop."

Turning back to him with a smug smile on her face, it was fun watching his own fade. But him matching the glint in her eyes wasn't something she was prepared for. "Fine by me," he announced so Evie could hear him. He took a step closer to the petite brunette that fit his body so perfectly. "You have no idea ho much I want to kiss you right now."

Gabriella gulped from his body so close to hers. Her mind flashed back to last night again – her fingers weaved through his floppy hair, his hands fumbling at the hem of her shirt. It was like they were back in high school again.

"And…about last night…"

"No, Troy. Let's not."

"Yes, let's. I shouldn't have…"

"Troy, it was just a kiss. A great kiss. We have great kisses," she sighed, her eyes slowly coming back to his. "I have to go. Evie, thanks. Bye Troy." And with that, she was gone and he had won in paying for her breakfast. Maybe one day, he secretly hoped, it would be a real breakfast.

"Y'all need a knife."

"We need a fencing sword."

"Really like her don't ya?" Evie asked, leaning over the counter just lightly as Timmy cam around to Troy on his own.

"Yea, I do."

"$5.60 please."


	6. Daydream

&&&

**Between the Lines**  
Daydream

&&&

Chad loves sports. It was his number one passion. When any kind of sporting event was on television or the wonderful World Wide Web, he was watching it – which was basically all day. Be it basketball, preferably basketball, to curling – he was watching it, taking notes and chowing down on whatever was within reach. He absolutely loved it when there was a fight. It was in his nature – he was a guy. He rooted, booed and threatened anyone who came between a game and him. There was absolutely nothing to distract him. His eyes were always glued to the screen, and he wrote notes on a slant. But no one could interrupt his sports stare – until now.

His concentration on the current hockey match between the New York Rangers and San Jose Sharks was broken by a pair of long legs that crossed in the corner of his eye. A pencil skirt covered the papers that were spread all over his desk and his eyes started to memorize the curves and tone of her skin. His gaze drifted up towards her floral patterned blouse, fitting her in all the right places. Just the slight hint of her ample breasts made Chad swallow his tongue and he shook his head, trying to rid of the dirty thoughts before they took him over and he got fired.

"Hi Chad. How's the game going?" She beamed at him, the curve of her mouth twitched ever so slightly that he almost fell out of his chair.

"Um, it's okay. The Rangers are getting their asses kicked. This may just be the most boring game ever because no fights have broken out yet and it's something," he looked from her legs back to her beautiful face once again, "I'm so willing to miss."

"Good. I'm really impressed by your column so far."

He narrowed his eyes then, something was up. There had to be something up. "Really?"

"Yes. In fact, I was thinking maybe we can do lunch today to discuss…further advancement?" Editor-in-chief Taylor McKessie's fingers trailed up his arm and that was enough for him to play ball. Even if she had come with ulterior motives, he was still all about her feisty-ness and seeing how far he could go with her. The more he could get, the more he was taking.

"What kind of further advancement are we talking about here…mouth, delicates or job-wise?"

"Delicates? You just said delicates?"

"If I said the formal word in front of your innocent ears, you'd have my job."

"I already have your job in the palm of my hands."

There was his opening. Leaning towards her, Chad blew softly onto her ear, "Want to know what else you could have in the palm of your hand?"

Taylor jumped back from him. "Okay, change of plans," she scooted herself off of his desk and backed up to the other side of his desk, trying to prevent him from touching her. But this was Chad – a desk wouldn't do much. She'd have to put up a steel barrier, three inches thick.

"As much as I love the fake coming onto me thing, want to tell me what you want? You've just proven you can't handle the dirty talk."

"Do you want me to talk dirty?" Taylor raised her eyebrow, immediately regretting her words.

"Oh, yes, Taylor. I would love for you to talk dirty to me," Chad scaled the few steps separating them and whispered into her ear again, "Just when you are underneath me and screaming my name."

Taylor gulped slowly, his hands resting lightly on her elbows. Jumping back from his embrace, she was laying all cards on the table now. Her soft glare seemed to only make him smile wider. Slapping the paper down on the edge of his desk, she stated clear what she wanted. "What's gotten into Troy?"

"You came here to grill me about Troy? Martha is right over there."

"She won't give me what I need."

"And I will?"

"Of course you will, you do want me screaming your name," she smirked. "Plus, you can't seem to stop chasing me. I might as well use you."

"Not like this. As much as I want you…so fucking much, you need to go see Troy."

"But you know and you're so much easier than he is."

"Not budging. I'll give into you when you want me as much as I want you. Until then, he's my friend first."

Taylor stood up straight – _when you want me as much as I want you_ – that won't be happening any time soon. Grabbing the paper back from him, her heels clicked all the way back towards her office and she snapped at people along the way.

Chad smirked at her departure, watching her hips sway from side to side. One day she would want him as much as he wanted her…just not anytime soon. But it was a risk he was willing to take. "She so wants me," he boasted.

&&&

There was once upon a time where she though she'd be getting married before Kelsi. It was junior year of college when she met and started seeing Ben. He was great, the best boyfriend for her. He was smart, cute and actually loved her singing – something that at the time had been rare. Gabriella has planned everything out in her head like she was still five years old. It would've been a true white wedding -- the only color popping out of any kind would be the electric blue from her bouquet and the buds on the cake. But things had changed during senior year – everything had changed. Her mom had been diagnosed with a failing heart and their romantic relationship was crumbling. It mostly had to do with the future – she was a take it one day at a time girl, he was schedules and order. Ben and her still talked sometimes, but there was no hope in rekindling the romance they once had shared.

Flipping through her official maid-of-honor book, she wondered if this was Kelsi's dream wedding or not. She had always heard – mostly from her aunt Rosa – that bride's always look back and would have wanted to change something about their magical day. Kelsi had everything that one could dream of – a beautiful location, handsome groom, colors that just made your eyes pop and even the flowers she had wanted were in season; always a bonus when you're a bride on a budget.

Looking around for her petite friend, Gabriella sipped on the water glass in front of her, eager to send out invitations as soon as possible. Crossing off the previous items on her to-do-list, Gabriella pulled out the music sheets stuck on the bottom – the ones that she was determined to finish before the wedding in less than four months. Half of the lyrics were done, but the bridge was giving her trouble. It was a sweet song, one she hoped to sing for the newlyweds as a gift at their wedding.

Reading over the first two choruses, the music stated to play in her head…_don't run away…_As her hands started to write more, Gabriella didn't notice Sharpay and Kelsi come in. both were more than happy to have her finish another song. The future sister-in-laws always enjoyed her music and this song was no different.

"I hope you finish that one soon," Sharpay peeked over her shoulder to spy the title as she sat down on the stool next to her, glancing over at Zeke momentarily while his back was turned.

"Me too," Gabriella let out a sigh and started to put away her sheet music.

"We don't mind if you work on it, Gabriella."

"I know. But Kelsi's wedding it much more important than this. If we get the stuff done, maybe I'll finish it later."

"Really?" Sharpay raised an eyebrow before Kelsi and Gabriella both looked at her blankly. "I'm kidding!"

"Um, good because we have just a few things to conquer today. Number one thing – invitations!"

&&&

The girls had taken over the empty auditorium, spreading themselves and the thousand of samples and pictures that Sharpay had brought with her of cakes, favors and invitations. Between three tables they looked swamped, but in reality, they were almost done. Kelsi had made her decisions on the photographer, favors and the cake but she was purposely avoiding the invites. Choosing the invitations meant narrowing her 500 plus guest list down to a mere 100 – for the conservatory only held that many people at a time. If it held any more, Alberto would have to build out and get another permit. Knowing that Kelsi and Ryan really wanted to keep their March nuptials, building on was out of the question.

"Cross Vincent and James off that list, Kelsi," Sharpay announced, pointing out the list in the small brunette's hands.

"But I like Vincent. He's funny."

"Funny my ass. His idea of funny is lighting a pool on fire and trying to walk through it."

Gabriella's eyes ping-ponged between the two, listening to each one of the guests being rattled off and Sharpay almost planning the guest list for her brother's wedding. She sighed, thanking her lucky stars that it wasn't her getting married. If it was her wedding, the bridesmaids' dresses would've been done the week of the engagement. The cake and venue, the week after; the guest list – limited to friends and family only – done during the off times.

She would be engaged and married to Troy Bolton within a month. Gabriella snapped her head up and blinked a couple of times. Did she seriously just daydream about her wedding to Troy? It was freakingly all planned in her mind and changed from the one she imagined with Ben. Long white train dress with gold embroidery, electric purples and blue tones, violets and gardenias…and you could forget about a normal cake. Theirs would be an ice cream one – Gabriella had always imagined having a mint chocolate chip cake that she could be fed by her groom and would absolutely not mind getting it all over her face.

"What do you think Gabriella?" Kelsi's voice pulled her out of her trance.

"Hmm? Sorry girls."

"Dreaming about Love Letter guy again?" Sharpay winked at the brunette and brought her lemonade to her lips.

"What do you mean again?"

"So you admit you were!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes at the blond. Ever since Troy's article, every time she saw Sharpay at the resort, she would mention him – usually as Love Letter Guy.

"Anyway…guest list…"

"Ryan says we can only fit 100 for the ceremony."

"Right," Gabriella confirmed.

"What about the reception? Can I get a few more?"

"I'm sure you can," she nodded. "Look, take the list home and make Ryan go through it with you. The 100 most important people are ceremony."

"Got it, thanks Gabby," Kelsi smiled as the three started to clean up the wedding mess the made, as Ryan swooped into the auditorium just for a kiss to his bride.

As Gabriella put all her papers back in her maid-of-honor binder, she smiled at the two. Maybe dreaming of a wedding wasn't all that bad. Maybe if she was lucky, she'd have what Ryan and Kelsi had one day.

"Um," Zeke cleared his throat as he came up to her side and almost made her jump out of her sandals. "Sorry to interrupt…hi Sharpay," he locked eyes with hers before Gabriella slapped him back to reality.

"You came for something…"

"Yea, yes. You have a phone call and you need to take it."

Gabriella crinkled her nose at him but left the table anyhow, taking her binder in her hands. "Okay, do you know who it is or are you just the messenger?"

"Katie came with the info. You need to carry a pager or something."

"Zeke, 2009. Pagers are so 1998,"

"Take your uncle's office. I'll patch it in."

"It's that kind of call? Really?"

"Really. Now hurry," Zeke chuckled at his longtime friend, almost pushing her towards the corporate hallway before returning to behind Angelica's bar. She most definitely needed to take this call.

&&&

Footsteps crept on the floor of the conservatory. The workers had called it a day hours ago and while she should be up on the stage, working on the song for Ryan and Kelsi, she wasn't. Instead, she was sitting on the white couch, bunched in a ball and cradling an empty shot glass in her fingers. This was her eighth.

All she could think of was how she could convince Arista Records that she was worthy of a contract without stripping. As the clear glass wormed it's way through her fingers and onto the table in front of her, Gabriella went through the reasons in her head why is should be her but she just couldn't shake the feelings that some 14-year-old Hannah Montana wannabe was going to come in and take it all away again.

There were always reasons – many she had heard time over time again and it became a broken record. There was the typical: 'We're looking for another sound.' Then there was the one she heard more than often. She had the sound, but not the look: 'You're exactly what we're looking fro…but we need to appeal to the younger demographic.' In English, that translates to 'you're not Hannah Montana.'

She stared at the glasses on the coffee table and leaned her head back on the sofa, closing her eyes shut and wishing the peeping Tom or whoever it was would go away. She just wanted to be left alone so she could plan how she was going to wow the company and finally get the deal she'd been after for years. As the couch shifted on the opposite end, she was forced to open her eyes again.

"I thought Zeke didn't serve liquor until eight?" An all familiar voice taunted. _Crap, what is he doing here?_

Gabriella turned her head slightly, only to be met with a smirking Troy Bolton – the one she didn't feel like seeing. Dressed in a straight-line suit and a tie to match his electric blues, she could only imagine where he came from. "Not in the mood, Troy."

"So I hear," the curve of his mouth enticed her as he pulled her up on the couch and back into a sitting position. Having her slouching was not helping him getting her to talk. "Talk to me Ella."

"Gabriella."

"Still, talk to me. I left an interview for you. You owe me."

"I owe you? I didn't even call you! By all means, go back to your interview."

"Don't be mean," Troy grabbed onto her hands and made her face him. "Zeke called me, I came. Simple as that. From what I hear eight shoes in less than an hour isn't good for you. So, talk to me."

Gabriella took his words in. Zeke had come in hours before, trying to get something out of her but she had nothing to say. She was still processing all of it in her brain. After the last rejection from Jive Records, she wasn't sure if she could handle another. "I got an invite from Arista," she confessed to Troy in a whisper.

"That's wonderful!" He beamed, still holding onto her hands. "Why aren't you jumping off the walls about this?"

"Because I'm worried about another reject," she paused and looked up at him. Sliding her hands out from his grasp, she swung her feet over the sofa so they hit the floor. "I've been going to record companies for about three years and they all say the same thing – 'You're not what we were looking for' or 'We were expecting a different sound.' I just…ugh, I'm frustrated. My mom always told me that my voice was meant for the world to hear. After she passed, I made a promise that I would get a deal for her. Three years later and I'm singing for Uncle Al and Zeke." She pushed her ebony locks back from her eyes and turned back to him.

He was still listening. _Well, that's one good thing about Troy Bolton._

"I'm just tired of the rejection. For once, I would love to hear the words, 'We'll call you' or 'You should stick around.' I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?"

"Definitely not," he gave her a soft smile and let her continue.

"I love my uncle and this resort and this town is perfect. But I want this so much," Gabriella leaned back into the couch, her hair sprawling out on the white fabric.

Troy let her breathe it out for a few seconds before his fingers brushed through her locks. "Your mom is right," he paused, taking one of her hands in his again. With his fingers playing with hers, he peered back at her and spoke softly, "Your voice should be shared with the world. It's amazing."

"Thank you." She had no other words. She couldn't think of any. All she really wanted to do was feel his lips against hers at this moment in time. Looking away before his eyes could pierce through hers, she sat up again. "How worried was Zeke?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"A bit, actually. I was kind of confused when he called me though."

"Why did he call you?"

"Maybe to help you realize that you actually do need to talk to someone and not go into hermit mode. I think he was expecting to hear the news."

Gabriella chuckled, a true smile curving on her lips for the first time.

"So, when do you leave for Atlanta? He asked and she watched as their fingers still played with each other.

"Um…"

"You have to go. I know you don't want to be rejected again but what if in Atlanta you finally get that 'We'll call you?'"

"Troy…"

"Gabriella, you need to go."

He was right, she needed to do this. Arista Records just might be the company that's been looking for.

"Assuming my band can deal without me, which they probably can. They'll make El Cora like an upper-class restaurant or something. It'll probably be Thursday."

"So, you're free tonight?"

"I guess…" she sighed.

Troy dropped her hand and scooted close to her, lifting up his watch-covered wrist. Tapping the clear glass, he said, "Okay, so you see when the short hand gets here and the long hand here?" Glancing back at the brunette as she shook her head, he continued, "Good. That's what time I'm picking you up."

"But…Troy…" her words stopped when he started to leave the conservatory, giving her no change to argue. Getting up and chasing after him – thought that day would never come – Gabriella felt his arm wrap around her waist and pull her close. "What to do you mean by 'picking you up?' I didn't hear you ask me out."

"Don't need to and if I did, you'd say yes anyway," he winked at her. "You can't keep away from me."

"There you go again, being all cocky…"

They were standing in the middle of a hallway, looking like they were newlyweds on their honeymoon. His lips had captured hers – half to convince her that a date might not be as bad as she suspected to be, half just because he wanted to kiss her – and silences her objections to just about everything. Her hands drifted from around his neck to lie softly on his chest, his arms securely holding her close. It was one of those perfect moments that she thought she would never get. But she did.

"7:30, okay?" he brushed a stray curl away from her still closed eyes.

"7:30," she whispered back. Another brief kiss feathered over her lips before her eyes opened and looked back up at the reporter.

"Zeke, take care of her. Make sure she's actually ready at 7:30 for me," Troy addressed the bartender who had come to observe who was actually making the guests stop and stare in the middle of the hallway.

"Will do. Thanks," Zeke waved to Troy as he went back to his job and pulled Gabriella back into Angelica's.

What the hell just happened? Did she really agree to a date with Troy Bolton – TONIGHT?

&&&

Troy approached Martha's desk with a smirk on his face. The smirk really wasn't giving away that he was finally going on a proper date with Gabriella, but rather he was amused by the song echoing throughout the office. Everyone seemed amused by it actually. You could always tell when Chad was in a good mood. He was either singing it or he was shouting it out. In this case, it was a little of both. _Taylor hit on me, Taylor hit on me!_

Troy turned back to Martha to collect his messages only to see her earplugs. "New color?"

"Didn't want to clash with my outfit," she joked with him. "How was the interview?"

"Cut short. We're going to continue tomorrow afternoon. Can you reschedule whatever I have then?"

"Sure. Why was it cut short?"

"Had to go help a friend."

"Just a friend."

"Prying Martha…"

"Like I don't snoop in your stuff everyday," she rolled her eyes. "Jason called. He's in town next week."

"Great," Troy trailed off as he discarded the messages and looked at the time on the wall clock. "Think it's too late in the day to get reservations at Tucano's?"

"Tucano's? You don't expect me to pry after that?"

"Taylor hit on me! Best day of my life!" Chad interrupted them, falling over onto the sofa in Troy's office.

"So we heard," Troy laughed.

"I love her. I love her whole feisty package. She comes over, sits on my desk with her legs and starts talking dirty. I love her!"

"I'm sure you do."

"Chad, have you ever thought of, I don't know, not chasing Taylor?"

Chad looked over to Martha with an offended look on his face. "What would be the fun in that?"

"Right. Troy, I'll check on Tucano's."

"Tucano's? Who's the hottie?" His afro-crazy friend asked, getting up on his own two feet as Martha returned to her desk.

Troy could only smile at his friend. If he only knew, if he only knew…

* * *

A/N: I have no excuse...well, I do. But you all know how real lives go. Anywho...15 reviews gets you the next chapter. Yep, I'm awesome like that :D


	7. Tucano's

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**Between the Lines**  
Date

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What was she doing? What on earth was she doing? Staring at herself in the mirror backstage at El Cora, Gabriella couldn't believe that the moment she stepped out of the dressing room, she'd be whisked away by Troy Bolton. She had seen him in the crowd tonight, bobbing his head along to the jazzy beats of the songs she had sung. In fact, he was the one she couldn't take her eyes off of.

It was strange, to be perfectly honest. People knew she could sing, but so many people tonight told her they hadn't seen her sign like this in a long time. Ever since her mother passed, to be truthful. It was almost like she was singing for him…and she wasn't sure if she liked that feeling or not.

Letting her hair back down from the ponytail that she had tied right after she got off the stage, Gabriella stared back in the mirror. She was trying to be self-reflective, trying to figure out if she was really ready to do this – the date and Atlanta.

Arista Records wasn't her top choice – but it seemed to be the only one giving her a chance at this moment in time. She knew the artists and producers and they were wonderful. Deep breaths in and out, Gabriella jumped when the knock on her dressing room door came. "Yea?"

"7 p.m. Just reminding you," Zeke's voice rang from the other side as she let him in and he gave her the once over on her outfit.

"See something you like?" she joked, turning back to the mirror and fixing her lips once more. Dressed in a white, beaded strap camisole and the most comfortable dark tint jeans ever made, she simply glowed. Put in place by a white headband, her locks flowed down her back and gold shimmered off her lobes and neck. Ebony heels covered her feet, toes peaking out and her heel becoming the center of attention. Tossing the lip gloss in her black Chanel chain bag, Gabriella smiled back at Zeke as he waited for her to finish "putting her face on," as his mother always called it. He let out a low whistle at her which only made her blush – matching her now candy-apple red lips.

"You look good."

"I'm sure."

"You do. I only tell the truth," he smiled at her as she rearranged the necessities in her purse and snapped it shut. "Are you nervous? First date and all…"

"I wouldn't really count this as s first date."

"What do you count as your first date then?" He scrunched his nose and creased his brow, leaning next to her on the ledge of the vanity. "You can't be serious!"

"Why not?" She shot back at him.

"That wasn't a date Gabby. I'm so going to sound like a complete girl right now…"

"Oooo, blackmail material," she joked when he pushed himself off the ledge and faced her. The smile wiped off her face.

"A first date isn't a one-night-stand. A first date is us picking you girls up; holding your hand, flirting…it's the guy trying to convince the girl for another date. It's full of…what did Sharpay call it again? Fluffiness? And kisses and hugs. Your one-night-stand wasn't a first date. It was a drunken night that set fate in motion."

Gabriella looked at him blankly. He was right. He was always right. She just wasn't good at dating anymore…or at least she convinced herself of that. "You so need to get yourself a girlfriend," she smiled. She loved teasing him.

Leaning back on the vanity and double-checking her purse to avoid answering him – pepper spray (so what if it was just Albuquerque?), Chap Stick (must have essential) and a condom (you never know what might happen); she looked back at her best friend. "I'm scared," she whispered.

"Why?"

"I don't know. This is the 'first date' I've been on in a long time. What if I do something completely stupid?"

Zeke chuckled, "I'm sure that if you started speaking Spanish and pulled a _Coyote Ugly_, the guy would still be head over heels for you."

She stared back at him as they entered one of their famous staring contests. She gave him a 'are you serious' look which was only trumped by his 'yes I'm serious' look. She sighed, knowing Zeke would convince her one way or the other that he was right and that Troy would still be into her whether or not she tripped over herself, falling flat on her face.

"Give the guy a chance, Gabby."

"Apparently, I have to. Everyone is excited about this date."

"Except for you. Here's an idea – don't listen to anyone but yourself," he paused, rethinking what he just said "Well, except me because I know what I'm talking about. Think of this date as a chance to get to know the guy."

"I can try."

"All I'm asking," he gave her one of his million dollar smiles and grabbed her hand. "Grab your purse. It's time for you do go on this date."

Before she could say anything else, she was whisked out the door with her purse flying behind her. It wasn't a long walk – or run in this case, so they were there in a matter of seconds. She caught sight of Troy instantly – freshly cut chestnut hair, straight edge shoulders, a crisp sapphire shirt and black jeans. He turned her way from chatting briefly with Adam and sent her a smile – a killer one. It was one of those smiles that upon impact made your knees go weak and you prayed to God that you were near something to hold onto because if not, you were a goner.

With a big smile on her face after taking in his appearance, she moved towards to him. "I am so glad you look like that," she blurted out, covering her mouth instantly. "I so didn't mean it like that!"

He chuckled, "Gabriella, its okay."

"I just meant that it's good I didn't overdress. I didn't, right?"

"No, you didn't overdress. You look perfect. Are you hungry?" He inched closer to her and she nodded, slowly swallowing and calming her nerves again. They were this close to sharing another tempting kiss. "How about we do something about that?"

She didn't hesitate when he took her hand and started to lead her away from Zeke and Angelica's. Waving back to the tall bartender, she turned back to Troy again and her hand wiggled in his. It was almost perfect. Gabriella couldn't help but feel anxious now. This was most definitely a first date.

&&&

They had been transported to the jungle, she was sure of it, especially with dim lights all around and a soft South American melody playing in the background. Albuquerque was known for its lively nightlife and staple Mexican influence – an influence that lived through its restaurants all around. She was counting on him taking her to somewhere in Uptown, maybe Marcello's. He looked like a Marcello's kind of guy. But Tucano's – she never would of guessed.

Everything was set up when they got there too – a variety of foods around the corner table, drinks galore and even Abacaxi. Gabriella had heard of the famed dish for months – Kelsi had done nothing but rave about it after Ryan took her to dinner one night a while back. Troy held the small of her back closely as he led her to the table built for six but only held two for tonight.

"Wow, Troy…" she couldn't find the words to express her surprise at it all. She wanted to shoot back at him that he probably did this for all the girls he's dated, but she didn't. _Remember, Gabriella, give the guy a chance._

"I didn't know what you liked or were allergic to, so I just called ahead and asked for everything."

"Everything?"

"Just about. Although, I didn't get the spinach dip. I'm not that big on it. Unless you…"

"No," she said immediately and swallowed, looking away from the table to him. "This is more than enough. It's…no one has ever done this for me before."

"Never?" He motioned towards the table for them to sit down and she shook her head. "Then I'm happy to be the first."

Gabriella looked around at the food spread before them. She knew she couldn't eat this all – and wasn't really sure if he could either. "Troy," she almost whispered, "I can't eat all of this."

"Neither can I," he whispered back, with another smile on his face. "I have this friend, Chad, who has the appetite of a pig. He'll eat almost anything. I can see him eating all of this and still having room for more."

"Sounds like a keeper," she laughed along with him, amused by just the sound of his friend.

"He is. He definitely is."

"What do we start with first?" she looked around the table at the food once more, not sure what to fill her tummy with and what not to leave alone.

"I recommend the shrimp skewers and centra coax," Troy pointed them out before sticking a sampling on her barren plate.

With the hour they spent eating, Gabriella knew more about him than her uncle did her aunt at most times. He was charming and sweet, a little to her surprise. He laughed at her attempt to eat the beef tucanos without spilling the sauce and gently wiped the remnants from her upper lips – all without trying to kiss her. His fingers brushed her lips softly and she just stared at him. She really wanted him to kiss her right then. It would've been another perfect moment.

She knew he had a sister who lived in Sydney and a friend named Jason he'd labeled as weird the moment they met almost 15 years ago. She found out that he liked to attempt to write left handed and when he was down writing a phrase, liked to draw animals out of his "scribble." She found out that he loved visiting his grandmother in New York whenever he had the chance to and that he's been to over fifty musicals on Broadway. Somehow, she found that endearing.

"Here's one," he interjected to her fun about finding out all about him. It was his turn to find out about her. "What's your favorite sound?"

"Favorite sound?"

"Yea, I'm curious."

"Hmmm, anything from a tuned piano," she said confidently, wiping her mouth from munching on another shrimp skewer. "What about yours?"

"My grandmother's voice," he paused, throwing the now empty skewer of his own back on the plate and looked into her eyes. "But lately, I can't seem to get yours off my mind."

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She came to the conclusion that she hated the color red. It was recent; almost within the hour. Most of her closet was filled with red hues, she looked fabulous in red, yet right now, she couldn't stand the color. It had been the color of ink she always used when editing articles and seeing it staring back at her for the past three hours…she just didn't want to see any more red today.

Crossing out another paragraph on Luke's article about the local restaurants opening for next week's issue, she heard her stomach grumble. Taylor always stayed late to edit the articles that were submitted over the day and this was the only time that she could get it done and not be bothered by phone calls, meetings or obnoxious reporters that were constantly coming in her office and messing up her rituals. Glancing over at the clock, the numbers beamed back at her: 8:46 P.M. Taylor pulled her thin glasses off and ran her hands over her face.

"You should just make that a sleeper sofa, it'd be easier," his voice made her jerk her head back up. She wasn't expecting anyone else to be in the office this lat at night. Usually it was only her and the cleaning staff.

Chad let himself into the office and stopped slowly at the front of her desk. Setting a plastic bag on top of her desk with a big red 'S' on the front. "Thought you might be hungry."

"Oh, um…"

"I came to get something from my office and saw your light on. Hope you like the usual special."

"The greasy turkey sandwich with way too much gravy?"

"Yea."

"Love it," Taylor dug into the bag, pulling out the contents instantly but stopped as she saw him leaving again. "Chad, thanks."

"No problem. Don't stay too late Miss McKessie," he nodded towards her, trying to make his exit when she stopped him again. "Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something and you have to be honest with me." He nodded. "Why do you chase me?"

"Why? Why don't I chase you?" He stepped back into the office, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Taylor studied him as she ate her sandwich – dark jeans, a graphic tee that she was not used to seeing him in. Even she had to admit that his arms were ones she would love to be in. His hair was pulled back from his face too; she could actually see his chocolate eyes.

"I chase you because I like you, Taylor. I do it partly for a challenge, but for the most part to make you feel wanted. My dad always taught me to make sure the girl you want or have in your life always feel wanted. I'm trying that theory out."

"Oh," she blushed at his reasoning. As much as she hated him chasing her around the office, she had to admit it did make her feel wanted. So far, his dad's theory was working. She liked that feeling. "Thanks again for the dinner Chad."

"Anytime."

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This couldn't be happening again, not again. But she was enjoying it way too much to stop. Her back slithered against the wall, her hands weaved through a mess of chestnut hair and she was this close to her climax even with just his lips against her shoulder blade. "Troy," Gabriella muttered, her hands now gripping his own shoulders.

"Hmmm?"

"We," her breath hitched, "shouldn't be doing this."

"You want to stop?" He asked, recapturing her lips with his. Moans echoed through the hallway at his place and she didn't answer. Gabriella couldn't recall the reason they had stopped at his place before he dropped her off. Maybe it was the pineapple – at least that's what she was blaming it on at the moment – but she wasn't complaining either. She had willingly followed him inside, accepted the office of coffee and she'd so been the one to kiss him first. This was all her fault. A nibble at her ear made her gasp as clothes became a problem.

He pulled at her top, her bare shoulders becoming his favorite part about her. She clawed at his jeans, pulling them in all the wrong places after the belt feel to the ground.

"Ella…" her name echoed through the hallway. A nip at the lips as she gave up on the jeans and the need to feel his skin on hers became a matter of life or death.

"Hmmm?"

"Tell me to stop," Troy picked up and placed her against the opposite wall. They were two steps away from his room.

"I don't," gasp, "want to."

She fiddled with his shirt buttons and stripped it from his body quickly, much faster than the first time around. Her finger pads feathered over his toned abs. Now she remembered their first night together. No one could resist the way they felt against her own skin. She remembered the heat and the passion and the need for each other.

Troy pulled away from her, taking a deep breath and brushing away her hair to look at her. "I don't want to do this if you have doubts. I need you to tell me this is what you want."

It was then she had her epiphany. Screw first dates. There was nothing text book about their relationship at all and she liked it that way. It was right then she knew she was falling for him. Hard. Leaning into him, she whispered against his lips, "I want this."

That was all the confirmation he needed as he crashed into her and scooped her up into his arms. A swift kick of his foot and the door to his bedroom shut tight.

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Gabriella collapsed on the soft, cool sheets beneath them, gasping for air as he followed her lead and slide next to her. His arm had found its way on top of her waist, curving into her skin. She had once upon a time heard that it keeps getting better every time with 'the one.' At least that's what her cousin Daniela had told her. She was completely convinced of that now. This was only their second time though…

Two months, six days and eighteen minutes of built up tension and want had landed them back where they starts; and it was amazing. "That was…"

"Spectacular," he finished her sentence, looking over at her with a big grin on his face.

"That's one word for it," she chuckled, leaning into him as he adjusted his arm and pulled her closer again.

"And what word would you use?"

"No single words. Just a 'can we do that again?'"

He paused briefly, looking down at her carefully. She knew he probably though she was crazy now. But that was just too good of sex to let go of. She wanted to memorize every moment of it; wanted to remember the way he looked at her as they joined, wanted to remember their 'magic' as he stated. She wanted to remember everything.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," she whispered against his lips and moved to straddle him. The thin white sheet slipped from her frame and she showed herself to Troy once again.

He leaned up and ran his fingers down her arms. "How can I say no to you?" He kissed her lightly on the lips, moving his way to her jaw line.

"One request though," her eyes shut tight as pleasure seeped through her veins.

"Hmmm?" His arms pulled her closer.

As she looped her arms around his shoulders, Gabriella felt the sensation of his hands excite her breasts. "I wanna be on top."


End file.
